Juncture
by Penn Flinn
Summary: Barry's inability to escape from Zoom's lair sets in motion a chain of events on two earths. (Season 2 AU)
1. Chapter 1

**Hello!**

 **Thanks so much for checking out this fic. I realize it's a bit silly to present a season 2 AU while we've just finished season 3, but I've had this idea brewing for more than a year now, and I've been working on writing this for months. It's going to be a long one, but I hope you'll stick around to see the twists and turns: the places I was dissatisfied with the season's choices.**

 **This will get dark, although not as dark as my last series of fics. Warnings will be placed prior to chapters as necessary.**

 **This is likely my last longfic for this fandom, and I've worked really hard on it, so a huge _thank_ _you_ again for joining me. I hope you enjoy the ride!**

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Zoom's lair was as cold as it was dark, and it became more of both every minute. When Barry was first deposited there, hours and hours earlier, those things hadn't registered; he had been too preoccupied with the throbbing in his head and the terror that could numb worse than any draft. He thought the chill and the dimness would've lessened, too, when Cisco and the rest of the rescue party swung into view. It did, for a time. But, like any good spike of adrenaline, the high dropped off as quickly as it had come and left him the worse for it.

Because even though his rescuers were all hopeful, he was realistic. He'd long overcome his fear of the darkness, but this was a darkness that shoved itself under his fingernails and siphoned air bubbles into his bloodstream. He couldn't help but be afraid of it, as it swallowed him whole.

"You can't phase out of this thing?" Cisco said. A few strands of hair stuck to his forehead. His mouth, a slash beneath flushed cheeks, turned downward.

Barry shook his head in response. He knew what he needed to say, but he couldn't force the words. This was wrong, all of it wrong. He couldn't phase out—he was trapped in a glass cell, a voyeuristic device of entrapment that was seemingly designed to strip him of his powers. He couldn't go fast enough to phase out. He couldn't go fast enough to escape. And that had always been his problem, hadn't it? Never fast enough.

"Just go, alright?" The words that he knew he had to say came up in a rush, before he could continue convincing himself not to say them. His heart beat faster just by uttering them. "Before Zoom comes back."

Cisco took a step forward. His expression shifted in such interesting ways—moving nuanced through stages of grief. Denial. Anger. "We are _not_ leaving you here."

Barry knew better. "I'm not getting out of this cell," he said. "I've tried. A lot. I'm not fast enough to phase through this. You've got…just leave, alright?" The emotion, the fear, of what he was doing crawled up his throat, choking him. He tried to keep himself steady, knowing that if he broke down now, his friends would never leave, and he'd be putting them all in danger. "Just leave."

Cisco's face continued its transition. Bargaining. Depression.

Unexpectedly, Barry Two pressed forward, a sudden surge of force. Barry didn't know his other self, and he didn't know everything he'd been through in the rescue attempt, but he could see how much it had affected the man. This Barry was dirty, disheveled, his bow tie hanging loose around his neck.

"Do you know what we did to get here, Barry?" he said, brandishing wildly. "We convinced her, _Killer Frost_ , to show us the way." Barry looked. He could hardly see Caitlin in the woman who stood uncomfortably off to the side. His gaze slid back to Barry Two. "Then we climbed some insanely steep cliffs outside on footholds made of ice. Ice!"

The walls of that terrible, cold, gray place closed in. The urgency was rising, drowning all of them, but all eyes temporarily shot toward Barry Two. Barry's last words lingered sour on his tongue like the aftertaste of vomit. _Just leave_.

"All of us risked our lives, knowing Zoom was after us, to rescue Jesse…and you," Barry Two continued, full of nervous but earnest energy. "Now, I don't know you, and you don't know me, but I can tell you that today I…I did things that I never thought possible, because I needed to prove to my wife and to myself that I could. Now, if I can do the impossible today, so can you." He sighed. "I'm just Barry Allen, but you're the Flash. If you tell yourself you can phase out of there, you'll do it."

The bubble of expectation tightened, and all attention was drawn to Barry now, standing there with a hand pressed to the impenetrable glass.

 _Run, Barry, Run_ , he'd been told.

 _You just need to go a little faster,_ he'd been told.

 _Impossible is just another Tuesday_ , he'd been told.

The world got a little less cold. There was no such thing as cold, he reminded himself, just the absence of heat. He gathered up all of the courage and strength that was left in his body, all of that well-meaning belief of the people around him, and began to vibrate.

He knew, instantly, that his first attempt wasn't enough; his hand remained pressed at the glass rather than moving through it. Faster. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and focused everything he had on the vibrations. There was no such thing as cold, just the absence of heat. There was no such thing as stagnation, just the absence of speed.

 _You just have to hit the right frequency,_ he tried to tell himself. _Just feel it. Feel the Speed Force. You_ _'_ _ve gone faster than this before_.

But this wasn't _before_. This was now, after nearly a day of inactivity and pain and cold and hunger. And this was _here_ , on an Earth he did not know, cut off from all of the speed he'd spent so long working to perfect. The speed had abandoned him, left him to die.

When he opened his eyes, he was no closer to phasing through the wall. His hand was still vibrating, but he could feel it lessening, along with the hope that Barry Two had so briefly inspired. With a heavy heart, he lowered his hand and swallowed, hard.

"I can't," he said, and a sharp clanging noise somewhere in the bowels of the lair startled him. "You guys have to get out of here to get out of here before it's too late, okay? Just go. I'll be okay."

"You won't be okay if we leave you here," Cisco insisted, bridging the distance between them in two quick strides and banging his fist against the glass so forcefully it was a small wonder it didn't shatter on the spot. "You won't be okay if Zoom comes back."

Barry's jaw worked as he tried to keep up his confident face, his brave face. It was worth it, he decided. At least, he forced himself to decide. "Maybe you're right," he said. "But he will kill all of you if you don't get out of here. Every single one of you. And this will all be for nothing. Is that what you want?"

"Just—try again, or—" Desperately, Cisco pounded on the glass again, one fist, then the other. The glass didn't budge. Barry pulled away from it, even as Cisco's attempts weakened.

"Cisco," Barry said firmly. "Go. You have to get them to safety."

Cisco drew in a shaky breath, his fist sliding down the glass just as Barry's had done. His head remained bowed as he recovered. One breath. Two breaths. Three, and they finally evened out. When Cisco lifted his head, he didn't look at Barry, but turned. "Okay. Let's move."

Harry nodded sharply, almost soldier-like in his readiness for action. "Let's go, everyone. Jesse, lean on me."

As the others gathered their wits and made for the exit, Cisco finally turned back to give Barry one last desperate look. "I'm coming back for you. I am not leaving you here with Zoom. I swear to you, I will be back."

"You won't even be leaving."

The monstrous voice sent a chill through Barry's blood, and it had nothing to do with the damp warehouse. Zoom stood, blocking the way of the rescue team, blue lightning flickering threateningly. Barry knew it was over, then. It was all over. With bile rising in his throat, he knew that his friends were dead.

"Thank you for leading me to them," Zoom said to Frost, who broke eye contact almost immediately.

Cisco swung toward her, aghast, all emotion of their goodbye forgotten. "You double crossed us? He killed Ronnie!"

Frost shrugged. "I guess my heart is as cold as you thought after all."

"I can't believe you," said Cisco venomously. "Other you would be so disappointed in you right now."

Zoom stood dangerously still, but Barry could see the tension in his body, like he was ready to spring. Barry threw himself against the glass, more afraid than he had ever been in his entire life. It was one thing to be helpless as Zoom broke his back, dragged him through the city, stabbed him in the gut. It was far, far worse to be stuck here in this glass cage, helpless to do anything but watch as Zoom stood with the power to kill all of his friends in seconds.

"Don't do this," he said. "Zoom. Let them go."

"All you need is me and Barry," Wells added, but Barry knew immediately that he had said the wrong thing.

"You're right," Zoom growled. "I may not be able to kill you yet, but I can kill them."

He zipped forward, and Barry screamed, his fists colliding with the glass again and again with bruising force. Suddenly Jesse was in Zoom's grasp again, terror streaked across her face. Time slowed, stuttered. Zoom lifted a hand, the hand would kill her, the hand that would shred her heart in seconds before shredding Iris Two's heart, Barry Two's heart, Cisco's heart.

"I told you I would kill you in front of your father," Zoom said.

" _Jesse_!" Wells screamed.

 _Please,_ Barry thought, and maybe he was saying it, too—he couldn't be sure, fear was bubbling reality like acid on film. _Please not this, please_ …

Then there was a burst of blue flame. No, not flame, ice. The streak flooded out from Frost's outstretched hands, hitting Zoom square in the chest and sending him flying backward. Frost advanced, concentrating the stream on the speedster, her icy blue engulfing his electric blue.

"Caitlin," Cisco said breathlessly.

"You were right," Frost said. "He killed Ronnie."

Cisco looked thunderstruck, relieved, and terrified all at the same time. "Thank you."

Harry gathered Jesse up off the floor, already sprinting toward the exit with no regard to the rest. Barry Two and Iris Two followed shortly. Only Cisco remained, unwilling to leave Barry's side, the conflict evident in his body language.

"I can't hold him forever!" Frost screamed.

And that was it. The moment snapped between them, and Cisco was off, running toward the rest of the group. When he turned the corner and left Barry alone, the emptiness of the warehouse was like a slap in the face. Barry immediately stumbled back from the cell wall, his knees weak.

In front of him, the battle between Frost and Zoom raged in full force. A bubble of ice had piled on top of Zoom, smothering him, but it seemed that as soon as more ice was added to the pile, it would melt away. Barry knew from experience that lightning could be hot, and Zoom's was the hottest of them all. Blue lightning Blue-hot.

Even though it was happening so close, and so intensely, Barry could not keep his mind on the fight. His mind was outside of the warehouse, fleeing like the rest of them. If Zoom escaped Frost's attack, he would go after them. He would hunt them down, and it would be too easy. Too easy to find them, too easy to kill them. He would drag back Harry's beaten body and that would be it—both of them captured and used for Zoom's sick purposes, the rest dead. Zoom might even bring back their bodies, too.

Barry couldn't be certain how much time elapsed before Frost failed. When she finally stumbled, trembling with exertion, it was the only chink in the armor that Zoom needed. He broke forth from the ice cocoon in a burst of light and sound, fragments of frost spiraling across the floor, colliding with Barry's cell and shattering upon impact like pieces of shrapnel. Frost fell back, and Zoom was on her in an instant, planting a knee on her chest and a hand on her throat.

"How dare you try to stop me," Zoom said. "Did you learn nothing from the death of your beloved? From the death of Reverb? I have no qualms killing you, Frost."

"Then do it already," Frost wheezed. She clawed weakly at his arms, but it looked to be more of an instinct than anything. All of the fight had gone out of her with such a huge expenditure of her powers—she must have known she could never truly win against Zoom. Her act of defiance had been her last.

Barry watched with detachment, perhaps a symptom of the shock running through his bloodstream. Even as he looked, he couldn't help but think, again, how odd it was to be seeing Caitlin like this. Even with the blonde hair and the white eyes and the blue lips, he could still imagine his friend there on the floor, and, like everything on Earth-2, it was incredibly unsettling.

It would have been so simple for Zoom to kill her, too—snapping her neck, plunging a hand through her heart, crushing her windpipe until she choked—but he paused. Looked at her.

Then he slammed her head viciously against the floor and her eyes rolled as the blow knocked her out. Without another word, he flashed away, toward the exit. He was gone before Barry could blink.

He was going hunting.

Barry's gut twisted, and he felt that he was about to throw up. He had nothing to throw up—he hadn't eaten since arriving on Earth-2, and he doubted he would be eating anything in the foreseeable future—but his stomach rebelled against him.

He slid down the wall, unable to keep his feet after everything that had happened in the past fifteen minutes, and hit the ground with a thud. Even though Killer Frost lay unconscious just a few feet away, even though the man in the Iron Mask sat in a cell far across the room, Barry felt the emptiness of the cell crushing him. The emptiness of the lair, suffocating him.

Lonely, too. He'd forgotten that word before. Cold, and dark, and lonely.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! As usual, my posting schedule will be Sundays and Wednesdays from here on out. And please, please leave a comment if you have a moment! I look forward to hearing your thoughts.**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, thank you for a spectacular response to the first chapter! I love you all. A few more cleanup items (as I'm sure they'll continue to present themselves):**

 **Characters. This story's POV will alternate between the four core members of Team Flash with each scene. Also, there are _a lot_ of characters in this fic, between the Earth-1 cast and the Earth-2 cast, and in the interest of not overwhelming myself more with characters and plotlines, I made the decision to cut Wally from this fic. Sorry! I love my dude but I could not squeeze him in between the other expanded things. Assume he is still there and that his plotline resumes as normal with Flashpoint.**

 **I got a question about shipping: as with 90% of my fics, this is gen first and foremost. However, I'm pro-multishipping, so you'll probably find hints of all combos of ships throughout, but only hints.**

 **On the topic of ships, it's worth pointing out that this fic is going to play out the relationship between Caitlin and Jay/Hunter/Zoom as the show did, but I want to be clear that I DO NOT CONDONE IT. What is presented here is unhealthy and emotionally manipulative and will eventually be called out as such. If this is a trigger for you, please stay safe.**

 **That's it for now. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Go, go, go!"

The command was hardly necessary. Harry practically shoved Cisco through the doors of STAR Labs; it was a miracle that Cisco had kept his feet the entire dash here, and even more so when he skidded on the suddenly slick floor of the lab. It was still a few hours to dawn, but the lab was bathed in the eerie blue light of impending day and sticky night. It was probably just the fact that the default off-hours lightning of STAR was blue, something that was apparently consistent across earths, but the facts didn't make Cisco's impression any less creepy. He made a mental note to change all of the bulbs in his STAR Labs to something more cheery when this was all over. Yellow. Or green. Or hot pink. Hell, he would settle for a nightclub's worth of rotating colors if it made after-hours STAR less hair-raising than this.

 _When this is all over_. He might have scoffed at the thought, but he only had room for so many emotions when he was running full-tilt from a homicidal maniac.

Plus, the fact that he'd just abandoned his friend to the clutches of said homicidal maniac left a sour taste in his mouth that overrode everything else. This wouldn't be _all over_ , he suspected. Not ever. Not unless Barry was back where he was safe and Zoom back in the hell he had emerged from.

"To the right," Harry urged, somehow not breathless despite the Olympic-level sprint they'd just accomplished. "Keep going. Ramon, activate the Speed Cannon!"

"Can you get through without Barry?" Cisco called back, panting, as he led the Earth-2 Iris and Barry through the looping hallways toward the Speed Cannon room.

"Did before," Harry replied. "Just need to calibrate it right and hope there's a breach on the other side to line up with."

"The breach is still there," Cisco wheezed. "Caitlin and the rest gave us forty-eight hours before they closed it. There's still time for you to get through, but only just."

The group practically skidded as they reached the room with the Speed Cannon. Harry immediately rushed to the controls, pressing buttons and flipping switches with fervor.

"We're leaving?" Jesse said. "Dad?" Harry nodded. The pallor of Jesse's face tinged pink. 'We can't just _leave_ everyone here, our home…"

"You'll be safe on Earth-1," Cisco said. "You won't be safe here. Not with Zoom on a rampage."

"Here we go." Harry punched the console one more time, and the Speed Cannon flickered blue.

"'You,'" Iris Two interrupted, nodding at Cisco. "You keep saying 'you.'"

"You're not going with them, are you?" Barry Two said.

Cisco swallowed, shook his head. The breach flashed like lightning in storm clouds.

Harry looked up. "Ramon."

"No," Cisco countered immediately. "I'm staying. I've made up my mind. One more rescue attempt. I can't leave before that."

Harry was quick, decisive. It was one of his better qualities, especially in a crisis. "Forty-eight more hours, alright?" he said.

"Dad—" Jesse said.

"I'll give you forty-eight more hours here," Harry continued. "We'll find a way to open up the breach _one more time_ at exactly…" He glanced at his watch. "6am, two days from now. Until then, it stays closed. After that, it's gone. Whether or not you're on the other side, we will destroy it for good."

"Understood," Cisco said. "I'll be here."

"You'd better." Looking battle-worn and severe, Harry clapped a hand on Cisco's shoulder and gave him a wordless but sincere nod. Then he turned to Iris Two. "Do you have somewhere safe to go?"

Instinctively, it seemed, Iris Two shifted closer to her husband. "Family," she said, but her dark brown eyes flicked to Cisco. "But we're staying with him. We want to help in any way we can."

Cisco realized that the time for objections had long since passed. He nodded.

The lights of the lab flicked, and something _clanged_ deafeningly somewhere down the halls. Cisco's heart leapt to his throat, his fingers automatically curling into fists.

"Go," he said.

Harry took Jesse by the shoulders. Jesse, Cisco noticed, was crying. "Forty-eight hours," the man said. "Godspeed." Then he stepped with his daughter into the breach and vanished.

A _boom_ shuddered the building. _Sonic boom_ , Cisco thought sickeningly. _Super-sonic punch, baby._

"Do you know how to turn this thing off?" Iris Two shouted, knocking Cisco clean out of his paralysis.

"Yeah. Yeah." He moved for the control panel. Another _boom_ rocked the building. "Zoom's coming."

"He's—" Barry Two swallowed his words, shifted back and forth. "Oh—oh no, oh—jeez, I don't even have a weapon. _None of us have weapons_ —"

"I have a gun," Iris Two reminded him, but he was right. None of them had weapons, no weapons that would be effective against Zoom.

"Search the lab. Harry should have another speed-dart gun in here somewhere." Cisco fumbled with the controls. He cursed his suddenly-shaky fingers. This was _not_ the time to be scared, dammit, not now. Why didn't his body understand that? "The only thing that matters is keeping Zoom away from this breach until it's closed. Nothing else is important now, okay?"

He focused all of his attention on the panel—why wasn't the rest of the team closing the breach on the Earth-1 side? And, more importantly, why did Harry assume that Cisco would be able to figure out this clearly-overcomplicated system while literally inside of a pressure cooker? But, finally, _finally_ , he entered the last code and the breach blinked away.

A third _boom_ , a rattling under his feet. A prickling on the back of his neck: like the feeling of being watched, and like the feeling of static electricity.

He'd been anticipating a swift hand through his heart, a sudden protrusion from his chest like his favorite sci-fi horror flick. He'd experienced his own death enough that he was expecting it.

What he received was a hand to the shoulder, claws gripping into him, then the feeling of being flung backward fifteen feet. Even as he soared through the air, he knew that he could not lose consciousness. If he lost consciousness, he would not wake up. So when he hit a table and felt darkness sluice through him, he scrabbled desperately for the light. A collection of glass beakers fell to the ground and shattered around him, but the sound was too far away, through a tunnel. The world was shrill.

Through sheer force of will, he drew all of that into focus again and pried his eyes open. Dizzily, he saw Zoom at the control panel, struggling to reopen what Cisco had just worked so hard to close. If opened the breach, he would be within literal arms' reach of everyone on Earth-1.

A flash of blue. Zoom coiled, readied to spring.

Cisco did the only thing he could think to do: he threw out his arm toward Zoom, fingers splayed, the word "Stop!" on his tongue.

It was like a chill that started at the bottom of his spine and crawled upward—both beneath his skin and over his skin, branching out at his shoulder blades and thundering down his arm. The burst of energy out of his fingertips was so powerful it recoiled like a gun. A wave of blue rippled across the room and hit Zoom square in the face. He slammed backward into the control panel with such force that it shattered, sparked, and the breach was gone once more.

An appropriate response, Cisco figured, was a healthy jaw-drop. Which he did, staring at his own hand like it was alien to him, before Zoom crossed the floor and lifted him off of the ground again.

This time, Cisco remained upright, pinned to the wall as Zoom crushed an arm into his throat. A streak of burned flesh peered out from the cheek of the speedster's torn mask, evidence of where Cisco's energy blast had struck him.

"So, Reverb was right about you," Zoom growled, while Cisco jerked against the windpipe-crushing hold. "You have the same powers. You can open the breach for me."

 _I don_ _'_ _t know what you're talking about_ , Cisco wanted to wheeze, but he couldn't draw in enough breath to do even that. _I don_ _'_ _t have superpowers, I can just vibe_.

And as he reached up to try and pry Zoom's arm from his throat, he did just that.

At first, he thought he was doing exactly what he'd commanded himself not to do and passing out; but he knew from woeful experience what passing out felt like. Passing out was cold and quiet and dark and like falling asleep underwater. This was sharp and electric and colorful, and while he hadn't had a name for it for long, he recognized it as a vibe.

He recognized the location of the vibe, too, because he'd been there so recently. Zoom's lair, just as bare and gray as it had been when Cisco had infiltrated it on his ill-advised rescue attempt. As with most of his vibes, the edges of his vision were shadowy, almost as if he were standing in a wide spotlight in the middle of a stage.

In the center of the room stood Zoom, exactly as he appeared standing in front of Cisco in the real world. Blinking with blue light and swathed in shadow himself, the speedster imitated the deepest parts of Cisco's subconscious fear.

Despite all instincts to the contrary, Cisco took a step forward to get a better look at the monster's face. Or, mask. Vibes had to happen for a reason. He didn't put much faith in those philosophies, usually, but vibes—vibes were signposts. They were always there to serve a purpose. So, no matter how much he didn't want to look at Zoom, he made himself keep looking, keep observing.

Zoom stood stock-still for ages, just fizzling like a malfunctioning television. It was only when Cisco made it within a few feet of him that the speedster reached up, unbidden, and tugged at the bottom of his mask.

Vibes weren't real—at least, not how Cisco had always conceived of reality—but still he felt his heart quicken. It was the detachment of being buzzed, that sensation of knowing that he should feel nervous or apprehensive and feeling his body respond in a decidedly out-of-body manner. Even if this was not reality, though, the fear felt real. As did the mounting dread.

The leather mask did not peel away as easily as Barry's. Cisco had always had the impression that Zoom's mask was part of him, perhaps because it had never been removed. In Cisco's nightmares, it was something melted to his face, inseparable, part of his DNA itself. And while this was still some form of nightmare, Cisco watched as a chin was revealed, a mouth, a nose, and very human eyes. Very familiar eyes.

Cisco blinked out of the vibe. That black mask was still inches from him, blue lightning licking his face. He gurgled, but oxygen was still in short supply with his throat pinned, so he settled on mouthing the word:

"Jay."

Zoom's head tilted ever so slightly. _Jay_ _'_ _s_ head tilted.

Unbidden, another vibe flitted through Cisco's mind: two black suits, duplicate copies. A secret meeting. The image was choppy, a fragmented scene, perhaps due to his rapidly-evaporating consciousness, but he still saw the two doppelgangers.

No, not doppelgangers.

" _A time remnant?_ _"_

 _"_ _A favor."_ Though it was Jay's face, it was Zoom's voice that echoed through the vibe. " _I need you to look after Earth-1 for me. It_ _'_ _s inconvenient being only one place at a time."_

 _"_ _Then what?"_

 _"_ _Then it's your job to die."_

 _Bang_.

It was over in an instant. Cisco crumpled to the floor as pressure was released from his throat. He hacked on the floor for a moment, his lungs like fire, before realizing that Zoom was also splayed on the floor beside him, motionless.

"You alright?" Iris Two's voice was the anchor that pulled Cisco back to reality. "Cisco!"

"I'm good," Cisco said, amid shredded vocal chords and an already-raging headache that spoke to the contrary. He pushed himself slowly to his knees and even more so to his feet. This was going to be one bitch of a headache in the morning—although, he reasoned, it already was, technically, morning. He looked toward the Speed Cannon, but the breach was well and truly gone.

"We need to move." His attention was drawn up to Iris Two, who stood with one of Harry's special guns still pointed at the heap on the ground that was Zoom. _Jay_. "I don't know how long this will keep him down."

"You're right." Time to worry about dramatic identity reveals later. The last time they'd hit Zoom with a speed-suppressing gun, it hadn't done much but scare him off. "Let's get out of here."

Blindly he followed Iris Two and Barry Two out, back into the dark morning, back into a dawn that tasted like storm clouds. The city was just beginning to come to life: a passing car here, a stranger in a raincoat there, the single-bulbed light of a coffee shop whose sign still read "closed." This was Cisco's Central City, and yet it wasn't. Everything held that uncanny quality of trying to navigate a place one hadn't been in years. He followed wordlessly, like a tourist, hoping that the anxiety of pursuit would drown out the fresh anxieties that clouded his mind.

It was only when they were past the city limits, back at the edges of the forest they had just come from, that they finally dared to stop and breathe. Barry Two and Iris Two sat atop a log together, panting and re-lacing shoes, but Cisco couldn't sit. He leaned against a tree and felt rough bark like claws digging into his back.

"Forty-eight hours," Barry Two said. "Is that enough time to do anything? Seems like…we're going to need a plan."

"I have to go back home."

The words were out of Cisco's mouth before he could stop them. Barry Two looked at him, puzzled, and in that split second, Cisco also saw his Barry, defeated in a glass cell. He looked away.

"What are you talking about?" Iris Two said. "The breach won't open for another forty-eight hours. We have to focus on the task at hand."

Dazed, Cisco shook his head. "Earth-1," he said. The memories of the vibe were like dull knives, digging between his ribs with agonizing slowness. "There are two Jay Garricks. Two Zooms. One of them has been on Earth-1 this whole time, under our noses. He was supposed to die." He looked up at Iris Two. "He's isolated there now with my friends. And they have no idea."

* * *

"It's almost time." Iris' voice was tight, terrified, a wire drawn taught and ready to snap.

Caitlin couldn't blame her. It didn't matter how many nail-biting situations they found themselves in. It never got any easier—particularly not when there was luminescent digital clock ticking down the time to their friends' doom. Between the countdown and the pulsing breach in the middle of the room, Caitlin wasn't sure where to look. She wasn't sure which one was more nauseating.

She hugged herself harder.

"I don't care what time it is. After all the work we did to stabilize this breach, we're not closing it until they're through," Joe interrupted. He took a stolid stance beside Iris, while Jay shifted into place next to Caitlin. For an instant she wanted to abandon her post at the computer and bury herself into his warmth instead, but she had a job to do. She had to make sure that she kept her foot in the door so her friends had a chance to survive. And she had to be ready to receive them in whatever condition they were in. There was no telling what had happened in the time they'd been on the other side of the breach.

Privately, she agreed with Joe.

"Any minute," she found herself muttering. "They should be here. They _need_ to be here."

"Barry's never been known to be punctual," Iris said in an attempt at lightness.

And yet, just then, the breach clenched in on itself, and Caitlin felt the relief that her friends were exactly on time.

There was a darkness, a sputtering like a heartbeat. The immense power of the breach overwhelmed the room, its energy unstable and uncontained. Jay reached for the device that would initiate its collapse.

Joe took a step forward. "They're coming."

But the first words that Caitlin heard when the two figures emerged from the breach were, " _Zoom_ _'_ _s coming_."

Harry and Jesse—it could only be Jesse—staggered across the floor toward the stunned group. Tears streaked down Jesse's face, and Harry's was pale. He waved his arm, trying to convey a signal Caitlin didn't yet understand.

"Close it!" he said. "Close the breach!"

"The others," Caitlin said. As reality sank down around her, she found it hard to form words. "Barry and Cisco."

"They're not coming," Harry said. "But Zoom is. Close it _now_."

Caitlin turned, mouth agape, to Jay. Within the roar of activity, of universes, she watched his face cycle through emotions: disbelief, confusion, determination.

She wanted to say _stop_. She wanted to grab him by the arm and haul him backward.

But her tongue was cotton and her legs were lead, and she did neither. Her eyes followed the arc of the device as it soared from Jay's hand to the other end of the room. She watched it explode in the center of the breach, and she watched the breach falter, like it couldn't make up its mind on dying or fighting for life.

In the end, it died. And when it died, the room was silent, and the world sealed shut with it.

* * *

 **Thanks so much for reading! Comments make the world go round.**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter warnings for dubious science, blood and injury.**

* * *

Iris' mouth was dry, her throat constricted. The room, once so large, crushed inward. She could not see past the dust and debris of a collapsed future.

Harry guided Jesse to a chair, but nobody moved to help either of them. This was what shock felt like, Iris thought. This was the feeling that, one year ago, had carried her down the halls toward the spot where her boyfriend had shot himself.

"What happened?" Jay was the first one to break the silence. Jay, the one who stood there as a poor imitation of _her_ Flash. Jay, who had thrown the grenade into the breach to close it.

"Zoom," Harry said, breathless. "Zoom happened."

Iris' heart stuttered as she fought the haze and took a step forward. "When you decide to stop being cryptic, let me know." Even that brief resolve crumbled, and her voice shook when she said, "What did Zoom do with Barry and Cisco?"

Clearly the rescue mission had been successful. Jesse was here, alive, safe. Harry was untouched.

But with a sickening flash of memory, Iris remembered standing in Picture News that night just weeks ago, watching Barry hanging limply from Zoom's claws.

"They're alive. For now." Harry shrugged off his backpack. While Iris appreciated the bluntness, the words did not sound as comforting as they were perhaps intended. "One day ago, there was an altercation. Zoom kidnapped Barry."

Off to the side, Caitlin made a small squeak of terror.

"When we launched our rescue attempt, we couldn't get him out in time," Harry continued. "Ramon refused to leave Earth-2 without him."

"So, what?" Joe said. "Now neither of them are leaving. We've doomed them both there. You told us to close the breach."

"That I did," Harry said. "As long as we keep it open on this side, Zoom is free to cross over. I've given Ramon a strict forty-eight hour window, at the end of which we will re-open that connection briefly to give him one more shot at coming home."

"How do you propose we do that?" Jay said. "We destroyed the breach."

"I have some ideas." Harry's eyes flicked to Caitlin, whose face was still blanched. "Snow, I'll need more of your help. And yours, Garrick."

"That's a first," Jay said darkly.

Harry brushed off the comment. "Well, Ramon's the genius, but we'll have to make do in order to bring our genius home."

 _And our speedster,_ Iris added privately.

"What are we supposed to do until then?" Joe asked. "Just sit around pretending like whatever's going on on Earth-2 isn't happening?"

"We do what we can here," Harry said. "We lick our wounds, we go to work, and we prepare ourselves for any possible outcome when that breach opens again."

Iris crossed her arms, feeling the apprehension she was sure the others reflected. Caitlin was the only one who didn't remain planted, silent.

"You must be Jesse," she said, taking two quick strides forward toward the lost-looking woman in the chair. Caitlin's sure-footedness and her frozen composure was that of a woman clinging to tangible action. She knelt in front of Jesse and gently took one of her hands, observing the rawness of her wrists with a clinical but not-uncaring eye. "My name's Caitlin. I'm a doctor. You must be exhausted. I'd like to help you get better, if that's okay."

Sniffling, Jesse nodded. "Th-thank you."

Caitlin offered a tight smile before glancing up at Harry. "Can you show her to the med bay and make sure she's comfortable? I'll be up in a minute."

Harry nodded curtly before offering a hand to Jesse. The woman made brief eye contact on the way out of the room, but Iris couldn't quite muster the smile that Caitlin had managed.

When the two Wellses had left, the remaining team stood around awkwardly, the weight of uncertainty too heavy to bear.

"You should get rest, too," Caitlin told Iris, instinctively drawing closer, but before she could make it far, Jay took her by the arm.

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Of course." Caitlin's lighter expression fell just a bit. "I mean it, Iris. It's been a rough day."

"Sure." Iris chewed her lower lip. As Caitlin and Jay moved to a private corner, Joe approached.

"I'm going to head to the station," he said. "Not much good I can do here anymore. And I need to get my mind busy."

"Me too," Iris said. "I'm going to finish up some things here. You go. I'll text you soon."

Joe nodded wearily and dropped a hand on her shoulder before vacating the space.

Finally alone—or, at least, alone enough to be ignored—Iris took heavy steps back toward the computers. Nobody had stopped the digital countdown. She took the liberty of doing so, then manually reset the death clock back to its original settings. Forty-eight hours, give or take. The numbers started ticking down at once.

Forty-eight hours wasn't a lot of time, Iris had come to realize. Not when one was trying to launch a full-blown rescue attempt. And yet, far too much time when one was stranded on an earth with a murderer intent on making one's life hell.

Which Barry and Cisco were.

As she fiddled with the computers, her ear turned naturally toward the two figures talking in hushed tones at the end of the room. It wasn't like she wanted to eavesdrop—but it was Caitlin and Jay's own fault for not picking a more private spot to chat. And with the Speed Cannon shut down, the room was more echo-ey than ever.

"… _know_ I don't blame you," Caitlin was saying.

"I know you think you don't blame me," Jay said. "But you do. I see it in your eyes."

"What you're seeing is shock," Caitlin snapped. "My friends could be dead right now, and I can't do anything."

"And I was the one who trapped them there," Jay said. "It's my fault."

"This isn't about you."

"I should go. I made a mistake. I'm sorry."

"Jay, it's not your fault."

"No, it is," Jay said mournfully. "I don't blame you for not wanting to speak to me."

"Listen," Caitlin said, with a deep, steadying breath. "You were doing what you had to do. You probably saved our lives by closing that breach. Now you can help save Cisco and Barry's lives by helping re-open it."

"Will you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive. I love you. You know that." But there was terseness in Caitlin's voice, then quiet. Iris glanced up, attempting to be discreet, and found Jay leaning down, planting a kiss on Caitlin's forehead. Caitlin's eyes were closed, her features impossible to read. Feeling suddenly invasive, Iris looked away. She didn't even look up when Jay strode out of the room a few seconds later, and she was sure he spared no glance toward her either.

"I mean it about getting rest." When Caitlin appeared at the foot of the stairs, Iris flinched. "Go home, Iris."

"How can I?" Iris swallowed, then studied the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world. She noticed that amidst all of this, Caitlin was still wearing her heels. Iris couldn't decide if that was amusing, endearing, or straight-up depressing.

"I'll be in the med bay," Caitlin said. "We'll make it through. We always do."

"Yeah," Iris said hollowly. "Yeah, see you soon."

* * *

Killer Frost was waking up. Since Zoom had slammed her head to the ground, she hadn't moved a muscle, and Barry had wondered more than once if he'd killed her. With her white hair and white skin and blue lips, it was easy to believe that she was. Maybe it would be better that way, regardless. Zoom had obviously refrained from murdering her on the spot, but Barry couldn't think of any good reasons for doing so. Torture? A long rot in a damp cell, as seemed to be Barry's fate?

Back pressed against the wall, Barry watched his not-friend grimace and shift on the floor. Her eyelids twitched, fluttered, opened.

"Are you okay?" Perhaps the question was so automatic because this not-friend looked so much like his real friend. Or maybe it was that heroic streak written into his DNA, the one that compelled him to care about everyone and the one that had landed him here.

Frost groaned in response but said nothing. Sluggishly, she lifted her head, blinked, dropped it again. She took heaving breaths, in through her nose, out through her mouth. Barry wondered if she was about to throw up.

"You should get out of here," Barry said, still an automaton. "Zoom could be back any minute."

"Why do you care?" Frost rolled to her side, pressing her lips so tightly together they would normally turn white.

Barry opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, there was a rush of light and energy outside of the cell. Zoom stood, monstrous, over Frost, his claws curled into fists. He had her in his grip in an instant, lifting her one-handed from the floor. Frost grappled weakly with his hold, but the effects of the head wound were evident. A concussion was likely if not inevitable, and she hadn't possessed the strength to keep Zoom away even before that.

"What are you waiting for?" she mumbled. "Kill me."

Zoom's head tilted, like it had that first time Barry had disastrously tried to confront him in the STAR Labs parking lot. A feral head tilt, a predator sizing up its prey.

Then, at once, they were not standing in the center of the room anymore. In the time it had taken Barry to blink, Frost was transported from Zoom's grip to the inside of the glass cell across from Barry. She crumpled to the floor against one of the walls, clearly disoriented by the speed. Barry barely managed to go fast enough to phase himself through objects; the speed it must've taken to phase other people through was unfathomable. When Zoom turned his attention back to Barry, it was that reminder of the monster's power that made Barry flinch backward.

"You're empty-handed," he said thinly.

"And you're out of luck," Zoom thundered.

Barry fought to keep his voice steady. "No bodies. You didn't manage to catch a single person. I thought you were supposed to be the Big Bad."

It was the wrong thing to say. Zoom stepped through the wall of Barry's cell like it was nothing more than a bubble of soap, and Barry hardly had enough time to scramble to his feet before Zoom's fist was striking his gut, his ribs, his face. The bruises from the last beating had just begun to fade, but he could feel new ones forming instantly. He wheezed as a speed-punch set his nose bleeding, when another pummeled his sternum and sent him tumbling back to the ground.

Even though it hurt like hell, there was also some part of the beating that felt _off_ : something instinctual, minuscule, important. Barry watched the fist swing toward him again, blinking into Speed Force time, watching lightning flicker in slow-motion, and that's when he realized it.

When he had recovered from the blow to his jawbone, he spat out blood and squinted up at Zoom. "You're slower than usual."

Zoom halted for a fraction for a second, perhaps shocked that Barry had noticed such a minute detail, perhaps considering something else entirely. The black leather of his face was unchangeable, unreadable.

When he finally leaned closer to Barry, when he finally spoke, his voice was closer to a whisper than Barry had ever heard it. "I won't be slower for long."

Barry noticed the object in his hand too late. It plunged into his chest, and then he was screaming.

The actual puncture wound was no more painful than anything he'd experienced in the past; in fact, he was certain it was the speed dart Zoom had once stabbed him with, or something similar. The physical wound was expected. What came after, though, was agonizing, on a completely different level. It was like each and every one of his veins were opened up at once, like all of his blood was spilling out inside of him, like he was on an autopsy table and being drained of everything that had once given him life. The lightning inside of him went haywire, sparking and struggling to maintain a grip on his muscles and tendons and bones, leaving clawmarks as it was ripped away.

Barry emerged gasping, his breath itself sucked away, his vision clouding with black spots. Zoom took the dart, still wet with Barry's blood, and jammed it into his own arm. Comments from imaginary people flitted through Barry's head— _That_ _'_ _s not sanitary_ , Caitlin would say, or Cisco would chime in with a _You nasty_ —but nobody was there to offer that support. Barry was alone, and he was reminded of that fact when Zoom flashed back out of the cell.

"Your friend Wells had a few gadgets lying around STAR Labs," the black-clad man said. "This one will be a temporary fix until I get my hands on the man himself."

Following the injection, Zoom's blue lightning was sharper, brighter. Barry, on the other hand, felt the shakiness of nausea creeping through him.

"Siphoning off speed," he said, comprehending. "That thing is a speed siphoner. Take it from one speedster and inject it into the next."

Zoom, blurring at the edges, tipped his head.

"Then why not get it over with?" _Stupid, Barry. Don_ _'_ _t taunt the guy trying to rip your powers out of you_. "Take all of my speed, if that's what you want."

In response, Zoom simply tapped the device, which, now that it wasn't inches from Barry's face, looked more like a gun than anything. "A few hours to recharge." He tossed the gun to the floor, and for the first time Barry noticed the blinking red light near the handle. Inconvenient, he thought, for Wells to have a speedster-stopping device that needed new batteries after every use. "Never fear, I'll be back soon enough. Your friend Cisco stayed on this Earth. I think you've given me more than enough speed to catch up with him."

He stared Barry directly in the face a few more seconds, and if he didn't have the mask on, Barry was certain a smile would have stretched across his face. The realization hit Barry at once, harsh, penetrating, devastating: Cisco was still on this earth. Zoom could still reach him.

"Rest up," the monster said, and then the dust scorched at his heels.

* * *

 **Thanks so much for reading, and happy SDCC! As always, please leave a comment below with your thoughts (on this story or the new season, I suppose!).**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the delay...I'm on hour four of a power outage with no wifi. I finally decided to try getting this up on my tablet (which has data), which is not great, but here we are!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Once, on an elementary school run, Cisco had tripped on a tree root and gashed his knee so badly that the school nurse had to call his mom to pick him up. He'd worn a bandage for two weeks and had given his P.E. teacher a note excusing him from most physical activity for the same time period.

It was only a mile-long run, but it had always felt like a hundred. Once a week, start of P.E. class, everyone would sprint out of the gym doors, around the back of the school, around the pint-sized baseball field, past the parking lot, and finally, through the stretch of woods that would lead back up to the playground.

Cisco had never, well, _excelled_ in P.E. It wasn't that he didn't put his heart into it, but the combination of short legs and low coordination was a lethal one. No matter the cause, his decided non-athleticism had added another target to the already-massive number on his back, and he endured the taunts of Joseph McAllister and Colin Kendall every time they ran for the open gym doors:

 _There are monsters in those woods, Francisco,_ they would say. _They always eat the slow ones, Francisco. They'll chase you and they'll pick you off from the back._

It was on one of these runs, when Cisco was bringing up the rear, that the bushes rustled and footsteps pounded on the dirt path behind him. It was on this run that he staggered forward with burning lungs and burning calves and fell directly onto a sharp rock. It was after the run that he learned that Joseph McAllister and Colin Kendall had been the ones hiding in the bushes and chasing him. It was after the run that he learned that monsters were nothing more than people.

He hadn't thought about that incident at all until now, tripping over fallen logs and loose rocks in a forest at the edges of Central City. It had to be some sort of poetic irony, he thought, that he was relearning the same lesson all these years later. The lesson that the thing nipping at his heels through this forest was not a monster at all, but a man.

Though, even with Jay's face now cemented in his mind, he had to admit that the distinction was fuzzier than it had once been.

Iris Two, who appeared to be spearheading this new ragtag group, ushered them to a halt near a gurgling stream that looked as though it had seen better days. An empty water bottle, a plastic wrapper of some sort, and other assorted litter decorated the area. The traces of food reminded Cisco that he hadn't eaten in, what, a day? Despite the facade of preparedness, the only things stashed in his vest were Red Vines—of which he'd already devoured four—and a few of Barry's calorie bars. He sat down on the bank of the stream, stomach gurgling just as much as the water.

"We should be safe to stop here for a bit," Iris Two said. "There's a campground a little ways off the track, but I doubt many people will be there this time of year."

"You know where we are?" Barry Two huffed, sitting with much more force than Cisco had.

Iris Two nodded. "We're not just going to go running blind into the wilderness," she chided lightly. "I know exactly where we are. I used to come camping here with…" She swallowed. Hard. "With my dad."

Cisco hadn't been there to witness this earth's Joe West die, but he knew his earth's Iris West well enough to make a guess as to how this one was feeling.

"I'm sorry," he said, sensing it was something he should have said a long time ago. "Your lives…we ruined it by coming here, didn't we?"

Iris Two considered it for a moment as if she believed it. But then: "No. Killer Frost exists with or without you here. She would've killed him with or without your help." She was the last to settle into a sitting position, full of restless energy that seemed barely contained within her sharp edges and cool exterior. She rubbed a hand comfortingly on Barry's knee. "How are you doing, babe?"

"Aside from being on the run from a guy in a creepy black mask intent on killing all of us?" Barry Two said. "I'm as peachy as they get."

He was interrupted by his stomach growling. Like Big Belly Burger, it seemed that Barry's monstrous hunger was a universal constant.

On cue, Cisco's own stomach grumbled. Maybe thinking of Big Belly Burger was the wrong idea.

"We should've brought food," Iris Two lamented. "Who knows how long we'll be out here."

"Like we could've anticipated going on the run in the middle of nowhere," Cisco said.

"It's not the middle of nowhere if you know where you are," Iris Two countered.

From inside his vest, Cisco produced a calorie bar and his vibe goggles. The goggles he placed on the log beside him, and the calorie bar he tore open with mild disgust.

"Here," he said, breaking off two tiny pieces of the bar and offering them two his two surrogate friends. They accepted the dime-sized morsels with skepticism.

"Gee, thanks," Iris Two said, eyeing the near-whole calorie bar Cisco still held in his hand.

Cisco broke off a small chunk for himself, then wrapped up the bar again and stuffed it in his pocket. "Trust me," he said. "One bite of this is plenty. You don't even want to know how many calories are stuffed into this thing. Think of it like…lembas bread."

Iris Two stared at him blankly, but Barry Two snapped his fingers. " _Ring Lord_."

It was Cisco's turn to stare, dumbfounded. "Your earth is messed up."

"Ugh." Iris Two scrunched up her face as she chewed the morsel of calorie bar. "This is disgusting."

"Excuse me," Cisco said. "Barry always tells me they taste like Oreo." He popped his portion into his mouth and immediately mimicked Iris Two's twisted expression. "Either being struck by lightning tragically altered Barry's perception of taste, or he is a bold-faced liar."

There wasn't much food to chew; there wasn't much reason to lapse into silence, and yet they did. Barry Two and Iris Two huddled close to one another. Feeling uncomfortable, Cisco picked up the vibe goggles and began fiddling with them. There wasn't a lot he could do here. Shockingly, he was short on the tools necessary for on-the-go high-precision calibration. He twisted one of the minuscule knobs on the side of the goggles, put them to his face. Nothing.

Clearly he didn't need the goggles to vibe here—as much as he wished he hadn't, he'd vibed well enough on Jay—but they still served as a kind of anchor point. Hell, even Reverb had used goggles during his fight with Barry, and that couldn't have _all_ been aesthetics. He'd put them on before nearly blasting Barry to pieces. The blow that had started all of this, in a way. If Cisco had stopped Reverb then and there—

"What are you doing with those?"

Cisco was wrenched from his pondering by Barry Two's innocent query. Cisco pulled off the goggles and turned them over in his hands.

"Just thinking about something Zoom said to me," he said. "He told me I could open the breach for him."

Barry Two shifted on the log. "You can't, though. You don't have those powers. Do you?"

"I didn't think so," Cisco said. "But there are a lot about these powers that I don't know yet. If my powers are identical to Reverb's…" He thought of the waves of energy emanating from Reverb's palm, the way he'd said _We could be gods_. "Something about the vibrations. I've been thinking of my powers as visions that hop on the back of vibrations. But they are vibrations that create visions. And I think that they can create more than that, too."

"What do you need from us?" Iris Two asked. "You want to create one of these…breaches? What do you need in order to do that?"

Cisco knuckled the dirt of the stream-bank. "I'm not entirely sure," he said. "But I think a good start would be tuning these goggles to the right frequency and calibrating them. I need tools like I have in my lab."

"We can't go back to STAR," Iris Two said. "No way."

"Not STAR," Barry Two said, the idea dawning on his face. "I know another scientist who should be able to help." He locked eyes with Cisco, and his face broke into a grin. "And I bet you know her, too."

* * *

By the time Iris made it to the medical bay, Caitlin was just beginning her tests on Jesse.

" _Five_ college majors?" Caitlin was in the middle of saying when Iris came through the doorway. "I only took two, and I'm an MD. You must be a genius."

"Lots of people do four or more on my earth," Jesse said, watching Caitlin unstrap the blood pressure cuff from her arm. Someone had given her a STAR t-shirt and sweatpants, and she already looked cleaner and less tense. "Your majors must be more intense. You seem really smart."

Caitlin smiled warmly and placed the cool end of her stethoscope on Jesse's chest. "Thank you. So, do you have a favorite class?"

"Knock knock." Iris' soft interruption drew attention up to the doorway. Jesse's face tightened just enough to be noticeable. Iris tried not to take offense—she'd been around police stations enough to recognize trauma. "Can I come in?"

"Jesse," Caitlin said, lowering the stethoscope, "this is Iris. She's a reporter, and she grew up with Barry."

"Oh." Jesse sniffled loudly, her lips trembling. "Y-yeah. Come in. I don't mind."

Caitlin nodded, and Iris stepped the rest of the way into the room. She took the empty chair near the exam bed and tried to exude calm. It was what Jesse needed right now; she could glean that much. Off to the side, Caitlin sifted through medical tools.

"So," Iris ventured. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Jesse said, with the air of someone who was far from it. "Better. It's…warm in here."

Iris eyed the chafe marks on the girl's wrists, the trembling of her fingers, and her gut twisted. "Those STAR Labs sweatpants are the best, aren't they? I could wear them all day every day, if I could."

"Jesse?" Caitlin said. "I'm going to do a quick blood draw, if that's alright. Are you okay with needles?" Jesse nodded, and Caitlin approached with a small syringe and a swab for Jesse's arm.

Jesse was still looking uncomfortable. _Distraction_ , Iris thought. "It must have been crazy growing up under Harrison Wells' roof. The face of STAR Labs, and all that."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Jesse's face, once just barely holding on to composure, crumpled.

"This is all my fault," she said. "Zoom only took me because he needed my dad. And Barry never would've been taken if he hadn't been trying to rescue me." She looked directly at Iris. "I'm so sorry. He's your family. He was so nice to me, from the minute he got there."

"Listen," said Iris, taking the reigns while Caitlin silently completed her blood draw. "None of this is your fault. And Barry is going to be okay."

But Jesse was shaking her head. "No, you don't know Zoom like I do. You weren't there. He could hurt Barry so easily, and he said—he said he only needed him barely alive—"

Iris knew the beginnings of a panic attack when she saw one. Caitlin glanced up from where she was loading her sample of blood into a centrifuge, similarly sensing the crest of emotion.

"Hey," Iris said, refraining from physical contact but scooching closer in her chair. "It's okay to be afraid _. I'm_ afraid. I think all of us are." _Afraid_ felt too mild. With everything Jesse was saying, Iris' own emotions were plummeting to _horror-struck._ "We worked hard to bring you home, and we're going to work just as hard to bring Barry and Cisco home."

"It's already been almost two days since Zoom brought Barry to his lair," Jesse said.

"Barry's strong, like you," Iris said. "Look at you—you survived, what, two months in that lair?"

From the look on Jesse's face, it hadn't even occurred to her how long she'd actually been held hostage. There wouldn't have been any way to tell time, after all, and in Iris' experience, those things tended to seem longer than they actually were. When she'd been kidnapped by Tony Woodward, however briefly, those minutes alone with him in her old school hallway had felt like they would never end.

"I wasn't there the whole time." Jesse's words were a bit stronger, a bit more in control. Perhaps there was something to be said about the strengthening effect of mutual terror. "I mean, not in the train station lair where he is now."

This, at last, elicited a reaction from the still-frowning Caitlin. "What do you mean?"

"He, uh, he moved around," Jesse said. "A few weeks in one spot, a few weeks in another. All abandoned."

"What kinds of places?" Iris prodded.

Jesse squinted, and Iris noticed the idle way she rubbed at the rings of rawness on her wrists, as though the pain of it would trigger memory. "I dunno. A rundown house. A school. The old Saint Perez Mental Asylum."

Iris didn't realize how tightly she was wound until a knock at the door of the medical bay nearly made her jump out of her seat. It was Jay, surveying the room with a troubled expression.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said. "Is everything alright in here?"

"Yes, just fine," Caitlin said. "I'm still running some tests and getting Jesse settled. Do you need something?"

Jay shifted uncomfortably. "Can I talk to you outside?"

Iris remembered the last time they'd spoken in private, the tenseness that had followed it. Some of that was still clear on Caitlin's face, but the woman nodded.

"Of course. Jesse, I'll be back in a minute. There's some more bottled water in the cupboard just down there, and some cookies, too."

The doctor rolled up her sleeves and strode out of the room, closing the med bay door softly behind her. Jesse shifted uncomfortably.

"I would take her up on the cookie offer. They're top-notch cookies," Iris said, who had spent enough quality time in the med bay to offer testimony. "Caitlin insists they're only for people who are hurt, but I've managed to sneak a few."

For a moment, it looked as though Jesse might refuse, but then her shoulders relaxed marginally. "Does she have any monster cookies?"

"Those are the ones with the M&Ms?" Iris said, already ducking down to the floor and rifling through the snack cupboard. "You're in luck." She withdrew two of the individually-wrapped cookies and two water bottles. Jesse hadn't yet finished her water, but her skin was so waxy it looked as though she hadn't had anything to drink in days. Iris offered one bottle and one cookie to Jesse and started unwrapping her own.

"What's their deal?" Jesse asked after a few bites of cookie, motioning toward the windows, where Jay and Caitlin could clearly be seen. Jay held on to Caitlin's arms reassuringly, and it was hard not to wonder if apologies were being exchanged just outside the room.

"Zoom took his speed," Iris explained. "He's been helping us here since he arrived. They've been dating for a few weeks now. It's been good for Caitlin, I think."

"Why the serious faces, then?"

"Jay was the one to close the breach and trap Barry and Cisco." Iris picked at an M&M, dislodging it from where it stuck half-melted in the cookie. "We all know logically that it was the right thing to do, but I think we all have some illogical feelings."

"Looks like they've kissed and made up now, if you pardon the expression," Jesse said with another nod toward the door.

Indeed, when Iris glanced outward, Caitlin was on her toes to kiss Jay. When they broke apart, when Caitlin opened the door to the medical bay again, she was smiling that soft, bashful smile that had so rarely crossed her face since Ronnie's death.

"Everything good?" Iris asked, unnecessarily.

A blush crept up Caitlin's neck. "Good, yeah." Not meeting their eyes, she moved back toward the computers and pulled up the analysis of Jesse's blood. "You took up the offer on the cookies, I see."

"Thanks," Jesse said. "I haven't had anything this good in ages."

"A cookie is hardly a satisfying meal," Iris said. "We'll order in and get you some proper food. Right, Caitlin?"

But Caitlin was fixated on the screen in front of her. The blush, and the flighty schoolgirl smile, had faded.

"Caitlin?"

"Sorry," Caitlin said. "Jesse, your blood."

Jesse sat up a little straighter. The ease that had settled, however briefly, dissipated. "What's wrong with it? Do I have…a disease, or something?"

"Were you in Central City when your dad set off the particle accelerator explosion?" Caitlin asked.

Iris set down her cookie, the niggling sense of realization already growing inside of her.

"Yeah," Jesse said, now thoroughly confused. She looked at Iris, as if she might provide an answer. "I was out on a run. Trying to get out of the storm. So what?"

"So, I've run a quick analysis on that blood sample I just took," Caitlin said. "Jesse, you have the metagene. And your blood looks almost identical to Barry's."

* * *

 **So, who's the scientist?**

 **This is a slow burn fic, and not in the romantic way, so thanks for being here. I appreciate all of you who have taken the time to comment! Thanks for reading!**

 **Till next time (hopefully with power!),**

 **Penn**


	5. Chapter 5

_Tap. Tap tap. Tap._

"Ugh." Frost's groan was dramatic, throaty, drawn out. "Can't you make him shut up?"

For Barry, the masked man's tapping reminded him of rain in the gutters outside his old room. The arrhythmic, hollow plunks of water after a vicious storm. The sound was comforting enough to allow him to drift off for a blessed few minutes, perhaps longer. There was no way to tell. It was hard to sleep in this cell, with a hard floor and hard walls and already-aching bones, but considering the most sleep he'd gotten in the past forty-eight hours was the period where he'd been knocked out cold, his body forced him to at least doze.

"You hear me? Shut up!" Frost called to the masked man, before swiveling her head again to Barry. "You've been here longer. Surely he'll listen to you, Flash."

Barry blinked slowly and shrugged. "What's the point?"

"The _point_ is he's giving me a headache. Forget the isolation and the torture, this guy's the one who's going to make me lose my mind."

"Haven't you already?"

"Excuse me?"

"Lost your mind," Barry said dully. "Teaming up with Zoom, killing people for sport. Sounds to me like you're not thinking straight. The Caitlin I know would never—"

"You don't know anything about me," Frost spat. "You and your goodie-two-shoes friends need to stop pretending like you do. You're out of your depth on this earth, Flash."

"Barry." The name slipped out of his mouth almost carelessly. "My name's Barry Allen."

Frost leaned back against the wall of her cell and crossed her arms. "Gee, Flash, guess how much of a damn I give."

They lapsed back into silence. The man in the third cell lifted a hand to the glass, ever-persistent.

 _Tap tap tap. Tap. Tap tap._

Now it was the sound of Cisco's pen drumming on the desk as he worked out a particularly tough problem in the quiet of his workshop. Or Iris' fingers on the keyboard, slow and irregular clicks as she muddled through the introduction of a piece. _It_ _'_ _s the hardest part_ , she would say. _You know where you want to go but you don_ _'_ _t know how to get there._

"You're not drifting off on me again, are you?"

Barry's eyes dragged open once more. "What do you care?"

"You could be doing something useful with your time," Frost said snidely. "Like trying to phase out of here. What, do you need another pep talk?"

"I can't get out," Barry said. "Okay? There's nothing left to do. I'm not getting out of here, so I'd appreciate a little time to sleep."

"You're just giving up?"

"Yeah, I am," Barry said bitterly. "I'm allowed to do that, aren't I?"

Frost's pressed her lips together but said nothing.

 _Tap tap tap tap_. Joe's gentle drumming on the kitchen counter on Sunday mornings as he made pancakes and hummed along to a song in his head.

Barry's eyes were just beginning to droop again when electricity crackled into the room. This time, Zoom didn't waste time stopping outside of Barry's cell. His entrance took him through the glass walls, and Barry only had enough time to register that singed, coppery stench before a kick sent him to the ground. He went limp, half-expecting the explosion of pain would launch him into that sleep he craved, but when Zoom picked him up one-handed and slammed him against the glass, he was still aware enough to feel that, too.

With Zoom's hand pinning him hard enough to crunch bone, he looked up at the monster and wheezed, "Still haven't found Cisco? I thought you said you were better than all of us."

Then the speed gun was in his shoulder, and everything was white.

When he came back to his senses, Zoom had sped off, and the speed gun was spinning on the floor outside of his cell, red light blinking as it began its new recharge cycle. Fresh waves of hurt washed over Barry one by one, threatening to drown him. He turned his head toward Frost, unwilling to do any more than that. She watched impassively.

"Enjoying this?" he asked. Even to his own ears, his voice sounded like it was being corroded by layers of sand.

Frost shrugged. "I had a change of heart, remember?"

It wasn't convincing.

With that, the universe finally allowed Barry to sleep. Frost stayed quiet in her cell, ever-vigilant. The masked man stopped his tapping. Barry's blood, straining for Speed Force, crawled toward wounds that never stopped coming. Barry listened to all of it, all of these silent, dynamic pieces of this hellish terrarium, and let the darkness blanket over him.

Until, inevitably, Zoom arrived three hours later when the speed gun blinked green and started the cycle over once more.

* * *

Cisco was certain he'd been to this neighborhood before on Earth-1, but, then again, many of the suburbs of Central City looked the same. Given that it was the middle of the day, the ragtag bunch sprinting down the street must have looked like degenerates—Barry Two still hadn't fixed his loose bow-tie, and Iris Two had a large dirt smudge on her cheek. Cisco was sure he didn't fare much better in the looks department. He'd be buying conditioner in bulk when he got home, judging by the feel of his hair.

"Are we almost there?" he dared to ask. "I can't say I love running around in the open like this."

"Just there." Though Iris Two had taken the lead the entire trip, it was Barry Two who led the party now. With surprising confidence, he jogged up the steps of a house with darkened windows and lifted the doormat, felt his way beneath the porch chairs, ran his hand over the top of the doorframe. It was only when he shook a creepy-looking garden gnome upside-down that a triumphant smile crossed his face. "Aha!"

The key that had been hidden inside the gnome fell into his palm, and he jimmied the lock expertly. He ushered Iris inside and Cisco followed, muttering, "Break into houses much?"

Barry Two flicked on a light switch, illuminating the house with the dusty yellow light of an antique light fixture. It was the kind of house that prioritized comfort over elegance; though, in Cisco's opinion, there was a certain elegance to that anyway. The maroon couches in the living room sagged in the middle. A carpet in the center of the floor rolled up at the edges, an ornate pattern just distinguishable through the fading colors.

The only pictures that hung in the living room were artsy things, impressionist paintings of waterways and old houses, but the pièce de résistance in the room was the huge wall clock hanging above the mantelpiece. Its white face cracked around the edges, bigger than any clock Cisco had ever seen in a home. The rustic hour hand shuddered with each tick of the seconds hand, laboring closer to the roman numeral XI.

Barry Two immediately moved toward the phone, which looked like an old rotary device, but wireless. The dial spun and clicked as he lifted the receiver to his ear.

"Hello? Hi, it's Barry—listen, I know this sounds crazy, but you need to get somewhere safe. Okay? No, Eddie—"

 _Eddie_? Cisco hadn't even considered the existence of his dead friend on this earth, though it seemed silly now not to. More reasonable to be shocked at the fact that he was apparently not an evil metahuman, given the track record of Earth-2 doppelgangers. A momentary pang of sadness sluiced through Cisco's heart, and, ridiculously, he felt the urge to take the phone from Barry Two when the oblivious man moved to hang up.

A harsh rattle of curtains, however, drew his attention away from the phone. Iris Two pulled the curtains tight, moving methodically from one window to the next, sealing off the living room before moving to the kitchen. Barry Two still chattered on the phone, so Cisco shuffled toward Iris Two.

"What can I do to help?" he asked.

"Food," Iris Two said. "I've still got a bad taste from those calorie bars in my mouth."

"Are you sure I should just be—raiding the pantry?"

"Barry does it all the time." Iris Two waved a hand. "Then you can start getting to work on those goggles. The workshop is upstairs."

She turned grimly back to the task at hand. She and her Earth-1 counterpart weren't so different, both forces of nature when they chose to be; but this one smiled decidedly less.

Awkwardness prickling his skin, Cisco began opening cupboards at random, searching for easily-consumable food. At the sight of real food, his hunger quickly overcame his trepidation. Boxes of granola bars, bags of bread, and bunches of fruit evicted their storage spaces seconds after light hit them.

With the countertop now crowded with food, Cisco unscrewed a jar of peanut butter and dug in a knife.

"Breakfast is served," he called jokingly, before layering another piece of bread on his haphazard peanut butter sandwich and stuffing half of it in his mouth. He had eaten almost all of it by the time Iris Two came around, and he was already busy peeling a banana.

"I can't decide what to eat first," Iris Two teased.

"I recommend food, and probably all of it," Cisco said, tucking another banana and a granola bar under his arm. "I'm going to check out upstairs."

Iris Two grunted and rifled through a cupboard for a bowl, simultaneously tearing open an oatmeal packet with her teeth. Cisco let her be and passed by Barry Two on his way to the stairs. His friend's doppelganger was still on the phone, talking low. Cisco mouthed "food" on his way by, but he wasn't sure the man noticed.

The upstairs was no different than the rest of the house; old, weathered. The wood on the stairs was scratched in such a way that suggested a dog. Cisco's first thought was _great, a guard dog_ , but there was no sign of the animal anywhere. Perhaps an old pet, then.

Cisco didn't know what he had been expecting at the top of the staircase, but it wasn't what he stepped into. Off to one side, a door was cracked to reveal a spotless, neat bedroom, but that appeared to be the only part of the second floor that had remained intact from the house's initial design. The rest of the walls of the would-be rooms were knocked down, creating a vast open area dominated by tables, cabinets, papers, scientific instruments.

Hesitantly, Cisco crept through the room. The space was vastly different from the rest of the house—state-of-the-art, modern, haphazard in an intelligent sort of way. It reminded Cisco of his own workshop, with papers stacked and organized in such a way that only the owner might make sense of them.

The only part of the room that meshed with the rest of the house was a corner near a window, where an antique rolltop desk sat framed by two enormous bookshelves. Cisco tiptoed closer. The shelves were packed with medical dictionaries, huge volumes of work about bones and blood and cartilage. Few novels dotted the shelves, though he noticed, with a frown, that one shelf was dedicated to books about fishing.

A door slammed downstairs, sending vibrations through the floor of the workshop and rattling a set of test tubes on one of the tables. All curiosity forgotten, Cisco stiffened.

Had Zoom found them so quickly?

Each creak on the steps down felt like a death knell, the sound that would attract the monster. Cisco gripped the scratched banister with one hand and clutched his vibe goggles with the other. The peanut butter sandwich and banana rebelled in his stomach. He wished he hadn't eaten them so quickly.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, however, he didn't hear screams—or worse, silence—but the low chattering of Barry Two and an unfamiliar voice.

The appearance of Iris Two in the doorway of the kitchen startled him, but she wore a marginally-relaxed expression.

"Cisco," she said. "Good, I'm glad you're here. Your help just arrived."

She gestured, and Cisco followed her into the kitchen, where Barry Two was eating an apple and conversing with the new arrival, the scientist he had been promised.

Cisco really should have anticipated it; he should have realized the instant Barry Two opened the door to the house. But he still found himself frozen to the spot when Nora Allen turned around, met his stunned gaze, and smiled.

* * *

 **Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a comment on your way out; I'd love to hear your thoughts. :)  
**

 **Best wishes, and till next time,**

 **Penn**


	6. Chapter 6

It might have been worse having a clock, Barry decided. With a clock, he would be able to track the hours between Zoom's attacks, counting down with precision the minutes leading up to blood-boiling pain. The certainty of the inevitable, a mounting dread that was had a clear-cut peak.

Then again, he couldn't give many compliments to the way his existence operated now, living in uncertain hours, knowing that the pain was vaguely on the horizon but hazy in ambiguity. His skin crawled with anticipation. Zoom's arrival always came with gut-wrenching suddenness.

He estimated it was about every three or four hours that Zoom visited with the speed gun, making tiny meals out of Barry's lightning, not enough to drain Barry's reserves completely but enough to make him woozy with depletion.

He coughed on the ground after one of these attacks, trembling.

"Is that all you've got?" he managed, which earned him a swift kick to the gut.

"See you soon, Flash." It was the standard reply, and Zoom was gone before Barry could get another word in.

He didn't know why he still felt the urge to taunt Zoom during these meetings, other than the fact that this was a way to keep the encounters from being normalized. Once he accepted the pain as an acceptable routine, he was done for.

He let out an undignified grunt as he pulled himself to a sitting position. If his ribs weren't broken yet, they probably would be soon; they felt as though they were buckling under the mere effort of sitting upright. He curled a fist against his chest, breathing deep and willing himself to stay above the surface.

"You'd think he would get bored of this. I know I am."

Barry peeled his eyelids open to see Frost twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

"You try being the one getting stabbed over and over," Barry gritted out. "See if it feels boring then."

"I'll take a hard pass," Frost drawled. She unwound the strand of hair from her finger. Her platinum hair was limper, greasier, less otherworldly than before. "What is it with you two, anyway?"

"What are you talking about?"

Frost tilted her head, half-shrugged. "If you ask me, all of this seems pretty personal."

"Pretty personal to you, too."

This gave Frost pause. "You want to explain that?"

"I just mean," Barry said, "you used to work for Zoom. He killed someone important to you. Now you're locked up indefinitely in his prison."

"I suppose you're going to try to appeal to my humanity with that, aren't you? Like your friends did." Frost pursed her lips. "Suck it up, speedster. Look at me—I've got nothing left to lose."

"There's always more." Barry knew that from experience. He knew it well. "My Caitlin Snow lost her Ronnie too, you know. Because of a speedster."

"I know all about your Caitlin's pathetic love affair."

"Did you know she lost him twice?" Barry countered. "Once when the accelerator blew. Again when I tried to mess with time."

"So it's your fault her Ronnie's dead," Frost said. "Just like it's your fault mine is."

Barry frowned. "As I recall, it was _your_ Ronnie who nearly killed _me_."

"He never would have died if you had stayed on your earth."

 _Don_ _'_ _t waste your energy._ Barry gritted his teeth and leaned back. The guilt that crept up on him was a reflex. It defied logic. He pushed it down.

"My point is," he said, "Caitlin didn't go evil just because she lost her Ronnie. You can be better. I believe that."

"News flash, I went evil long before I lost my Ronnie," Frost said coldly. "Why don't you stick to what you're best at: getting the stuffing kicked out of you."

She turned away pointedly and looked off toward the center of the room.

"I'm sorry for whatever happened to you," Barry said. "And I know you're grieving." He tilted his head. "You may not be a superhero, but I do believe there's good in you."

To that, Frost said nothing.

* * *

"You're not a superhero, Caitlin."

Caitlin pinched the bridge of her nose. She'd been staring at the computer for so long the pressure was building behind her eyes. Normally she was hesitant to take any medication, even for headaches, but the impending migraine compelled her to make an exception.

"Your point?'

"You don't have to do everything," Iris said, leaning back against the desk and crossing her arms. "You've been running back and forth between Jesse and the speed cannon so fast I'm half-convinced you got hit by the speed-gene also."

"Shh." Caitlin's head whipped around so fast it was a miracle she didn't give herself whiplash. "Iris."

"Just seems to me like everyone's getting it nowadays," Iris continued, elbowing Caitlin lightly. "Seriously, though. You should get some rest."

"I'll rest when Barry and Cisco are home," Caitlin said.

Iris rolled her eyes. "Cait. We're not opening up the breach for another day and a half. I think you can take a few hours. I'm going to take a nap downstairs. I think you should do the same."

"In a bit," Caitlin said. "I just need to finish this up."

Iris gave her a look that said _I don_ _'_ _t believe you_ , but thankfully she relented. Exhausted-looking, she patted Caitlin's shoulder and sauntered away.

Turning back to the computer, Caitlin minimized her research on the speed cannon and pulled up Jesse's bloodwork. After running her initial tests, Caitlin had cleared Jesse for rest and taken to her lab to do further research. It wasn't like she was unfamiliar with metahuman DNA; but she'd never had the opportunity to study another speedster's DNA outside of Barry's.

It was amazing, the similarities between Jesse and Barry's blood. Jesse wasn't _technically_ a speedster, not yet, but the same roots were there. Perhaps, like Cisco's had been, Jesse's powers were indefinitely dormant. Regardless, Jesse's blood contained a fascinating energy, unstable, maybe too electric to be contained. Her cells were arranging and rearranging themselves faster than even Barry's had at this stage in his power development.

If Jesse's powers came to fruition, if she became a speedster—

As much as Caitlin didn't want to consider the alternatives, Barry's return to Earth-1 was still uncertain. If, God forbid, he didn't make it—if he never saw the outside of his Earth-2 cell—if Zoom found away to cross over, Jesse might be their only chance.

It was a lot of _ifs_. And not all that bore considering. Not now. Not when there was so much to be hopeful for. Jesse's powers would come if and when they did.

"Snow."

This time, the interruption nearly caused Caitlin to jump out of her skin. She slammed the mouse button to close her research and whirled. Harry entered the room with arms crossed, his face haggard.

"Everything alright?" he asked, eyes flicking to the computers and back to her, where she was barely resisting the urge to cover her heart.

"Fine," she squeaked. She cleared her throat. "I'm just working."

"Working on the breach?" Harry asked. "What about Jesse?"

Caitlin forced a deep breath and hoped it didn't look like a guilty one. Behind her, the just-closed medical scans seemed to cast physical heat. "I've sent her to bed rest for the time being. I'll keep checking up on her, but everything looks normal." The word cracked. She swallowed. "She's dehydrated and malnourished, plus experiencing some symptoms of shock, but she'll be just fine."

"Good." Harry rubbed his arm nervously, and it occurred to Caitlin, not for the first time, how many emotions he must have been experiencing. He'd been on a desperate mission to rescue Jesse for months, and now she was finally safe. Well, not _safe_.

Caitlin thought again of the bloodwork and shifted her weight.

"You know, you wouldn't go amiss with some rest yourself," she said. "You did just come through an inter-dimensional breach."

"I need to start work on the speed cannon," Harry said. "It will go faster with two minds and two sets of hands. Plus Garrick—where is he?"

"I think he's taking my advice," Caitlin pressed. "I insist you do the same. A couple hours' rest won't hurt."

The words had been repeated so often they tasted like cold pennies on her tongue. But what else could she say?

Harry considered her proposition, sucking his teeth. Then: "Okay. A few hours. But come get me immediately if anything changes with Jesse."

 _Somehow I think we_ _'_ _ll all know immediately if anything changes with Jesse_. "Great. Will do."

Harry swiped at his face, one last measure of control, before turning back for the door. When he disappeared, Caitlin's shoulders relaxed, though she didn't feel any less tense. They were dropping like flies, all of them. One by one, leaving STAR Labs quiet. Soon it would be silent, still, empty, and stagnant. Caitlin knew she should let it become so, but she figured she could get in another hour or so of work before she allowed herself sleep.

But Harry had hardly disappeared when another frown poked around the doorway.

"Was that my dad?"

"Jesse," Caitlin said wearily. "What are you doing up?"

"Looking for the bathroom," Jesse said, clutching at the doorframe like it was the mast of a rocking ship. "You didn't tell him, did you?"

Caitlin fell heavily into her chair.. "No, I didn't tell him anything. The bathroom's just down the hall and to the left."

"And you won't tell him, right?" Jesse pressed. "You promised you wouldn't say anything."

"I won't say anything," Caitlin reassured her. "Go to bed, Jesse."

Jittery, perhaps still not convinced of Caitlin's honesty, Jesse scampered away.

The schematics of the speed cannon waited patiently for Caitlin, but they burned cold when she revisited them once more. At least Jesse's blood was warm and animated. The speed cannon was unfamiliar to Caitlin, and she was unsure if it would ever be possible to bring it back to life.

When when footsteps announced the arrival of yet another visitor, Caitlin couldn't help but exhale harshly.

"What did I tell you about resting?" she said.

The voice wasn't any that she was expecting, though. Deeper. Husky. Somewhere on the borderline of comforting and mysterious. "I don't believe you told me anything. Something I should know?"

"Jay. Sorry. I thought you were someone else." Caitlin slumped in her chair.

Jay meandered forward. "Seems pretty quiet around here all of a sudden."

"It's been a long day," Caitlin said. "I'm just finishing up a few things here. I suppose you've come to tell me to rest?"

It would be nice, she thought, to be told to quit. To be given the reassurance that taking a break was the right thing to do. But Jay did none of that. He said, "No, I'm not. I think there's a lot of work to be done."

Deflated, Caitlin sunk in her seat. "Oh. Yes, of course. But the speed cannon—"

"I'm not talking about the speed cannon," Jay said. "To be honest, I'm not sure how much you can do with the speed cannon."

"Then what?" Caitlin asked. He didn't know about Jesse—did he?

"Me," Jay said simply. "You could be working on a cure for me."

"Oh, Jay…"

"Why not?" he said. "We need it more than ever, now. If we can stabilize my speed, maybe I can get back onto Earth-2. Maybe I can help against Zoom."

"I don't think there's enough time for that right now," Caitlin said. "You know I'll help you, but we're on a deadline."

"I'm also on a deadline," Jay said darkly. "A literal one."

Caitlin's chest seemed to cave in on itself, and, all at once, she found herself crying. It came on so stealthily that she didn't have time to try to stifle the sobs. Instead of suppressing them, she leaned forward with her elbows on the table and buried her forehead in her palms.

"I'm losing both of them," she gasped out. "They're trapped there, they're dead or dying or worse, and I can't—I can't—"

 _Panic attack, Caitlin. Slow down. Slow d-d-down._

"You can't do anything to save them?" Jay supplied. Caitlin nodded, taking in a shuddering breath.

"I don't think I can lose b-both of them," Caitlin said. "Not both of them at once. I don't think I could take it."

She keened, and it was a cold, terrifying sound coming out of her own body, the kind of sound that could tear worlds apart. Or, perhaps, the reactionary sound to worlds being torn apart.

All of her stitches were fraying.

In the midst of it all, she felt warm hands land on her shoulders, fingers pressing solidity into her, just above her collarbone. Jay leaned down from behind, his breath warm on her neck.

"I will take care of them," he said. "But you are not powerless. Right now, you can take care of me. I need you to help give me my speed back, so that I can help take care of them."

His voice was scarcely above a whisper, but it was just enough to slow Caitlin's breathing. His hands, grounding forces that they were, pressed into her shoulders. She blinked, and two fat tears made a free-fall for the keyboard.

"Do you think you can do that for me?" Jay said.

She nodded.

* * *

 **Up next: Barry puts together some clues, Nora Allen returns.**

 **Thank you so much for reading! And, as always, your comments make me smile.**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	7. Chapter 7

Zoom was not merely a monster, Barry realized; he was a nightmare. Nightmare had always been appropriate, especially after he'd stormed into Barry's life and left behind a broken spine and broken spirit, but now he occupied the identity on a different level. He was simultaneously monster and nightmare, the living flesh of something that should have only existed in sleep. He was walking dread; talking death.

When he whirled into Barry's cell, Barry no longer questioned whether he was awake or asleep—everything was the same, anyway. No dreams could scare him anymore.

There went the rib he'd been worried about. He could feel the snap of it and the bubble of pressure that followed. It was with deftness that Zoom opened up the nearly healed cut on Barry's face, next. It was a cut that normally should have healed in the four hour period between Zoom's attacks, but, then again, everything seemed to be moving a bit slower now.

Zoom exited the cell and feasted on his morsel of speed before tossing away the speed gun. Barry expected his exit to be final, as it always was, but Zoom was back in seconds, this time phasing into Frost's cell. She flinched, perhaps expecting the same treatment—the blue bruises on her throat, a compliment to her lips, were visible even from Barry's side of the room—but Zoom didn't touch her. Instead, he merely threw a plastic bottle of water on the ground in front of her, along with a fist-sized loaf of bread. Frost didn't touch them, instead looking up at Zoom coldly.

"What's the point?" she said. "Why keep me here?"

Zoom tilted his head. "You'd rather die?"

Frost clenched her fists. "Change of pace," she said. "I'm just wondering, oh _speedster supreme_ , what my purpose is. Flash-boy over there is clearly here for the speed. What about me?"

For a long few seconds, Zoom didn't answer her, just looked. Even though Barry couldn't see everything that was going on from his end of the room, and half-blinded by pain anyway, he noticed the shift in Frost's face as Zoom stared at her, just the briefest glimpse of uncertainty.

"A reminder," Zoom finally said. He straightened his shoulders. Frost opened her mouth to say more, but he disappeared in a blink.

"Well, that's not helpful in the slightest," Frost grumbled, reaching for the water bottle now that Zoom was out of sight. Barry was so confident in her pride that he would've bet money on her dying of dehydration before drinking in front of Zoom. "I think I heard something crack that time. You doing okay over there, Flash?"

"It's not my first broken rib," Barry said, though he had to admit that the familiarity of it didn't make it hurt any less. He gingerly propped himself up against the wall and clutched at his side.

"Right," Frost said. "But I bet it's your first without your doting medical team at your side. You are all very touchy-feely about that kind of thing, aren't you? You and your flashy doctors. No pun intended."

"Sure," Barry said, who was remembering many a time where their doctoring had been anything _but_ flashy or glamorous. There was no fancy footwork involved in yanking dozens of metal spikes out of a person's body.

Frost guzzled half of the water bottle in one go and started picking at the bread. She munched thoughtfully with no regard to Barry, who had conspicuously received no such luxuries.

"What do you figure?" she asked after a while. "What he said about a 'reminder'? A reminder for me, or a reminder for him?"

"I have no idea," Barry said.

"But you're intelligent, aren't you?" Frost said, popping another piece of bread into her mouth and chewing. "He's got to have me here for some reason. Maybe he's got some kind of vendetta against me, like he does you. Did your Caitlin ever do anything to him?"

"No," Barry said automatically, before pausing to think about it. "No," he repeated, a bit more uncertainly, "I don't think so. I mean, she saved my life when he tried to kill me a few weeks back. And she's been helping Jay get back on his feet—Zoom tried to kill him, also."

At this, there was a frenzied pounding sound from the third cell. The masked man had been quiet for a long time, seemingly the only one of the three to have gotten actual rest. Now, though, he was again pressed against the front of his cell, fists beating the glass.

"I knew it," Frost said. "All this isolation has gotten to his head."

"No, wait," Barry said. "I think he's trying to tell us something." The masked man stilled. "Do you know why Zoom is keeping her here?"

The masked man nodded vigorously and tapped twice on the glass.

"He's cracked," Frost insisted, but Barry waved her away.

"It's a code," he explained. "We used it to communicate before. Right. Hold on." Barry drew the chart of letters on the ground in double-time. It was the first time he'd used his speed for anything since giving up the phasing, and even the small action made his energy levels plummet. "Ready."

The tapping now was deliberate, the purposeful rhythm of conversation. Last time such communication had earned Barry a thorough beating, but, then, that was the norm now. Besides, if previous timing was anything to go by, Zoom would be long-gone for another few hours. That is, if he didn't lurk within the walls of this lair in the interim periods. He could've been anywhere. But Barry was far from caring.

The pattern began in a familiar way. "J…" Barry said aloud, reading the letters as they were conveyed. "A…Y." He looked up from the chart. "Jay Garrick. You told me this last time."

The man n the mask bobbed his head in confirmation before motioning for Barry to continue.

"I…S…is? Jay is?"

More confirmation. A seed of dread. _Jay is in trouble? Jay is_ …

"Z…" Barry followed along with the tapping, finger tracing lines in the dust. "O…O…"

He tore his gaze away from the grid of letters. He didn't need to look at the diagram to translate the last letter. The final taps were hollow, resonant. Barry got the distinct impression of a hammer thudding against the head of a nail. After the final letter, the masked man stopped.

Barry got to his feet. He didn't think it was possible for his mouth to get any drier than it was, but it did. "What's the rest?" he said. The masked man shook his head. " _What_ _'_ _s the rest of the message_?"

But the man's iron face tilted downward, and his fists lowered, and he tapped no more. Flushed with a spontaneous rage, Barry slammed his own fists against the glass.

"No!" he shouted. "That's not—that's not possible!"

He was being swallowed up, the fire in his chest a singularity of its own. The masked man touched the glass gently, and Barry turned his attention outward, pummeling the walls of his cell.

"Jay!" he screamed. "Let me out of here! Show your face, you coward!"

He yelled until his voice was hoarse and his fists bruised. For their part, the masked man and Frost stayed quiet. They let him rage, and they let him cry, and they let him deeply, deeply fear.

* * *

"Focus, Cisco. Take a deep breath, and focus."

"It would be a lot easier to focus if the person mentoring me wasn't the genius doppelganger of my best friend's mom." Cisco scrunched up his face.

"Are you intimidated?" Nora asked.

A niggle of discomfort writhed in Cisco's chest. "Something like that."

He squared his shoulders, shook out his fingers. This was no time for squeamishness or nerves. With a deep breath, he touched the side of his goggles and closed his eyes.

The tingle of vibrational energy was there, just enough to lift the hairs on his arms. The correct frequency, the frequency of his earth, was close enough to touch. Pressure built behind his eyes, and he reached out, seeking out the seams of the universe, slipping his fingers into the tingling open space…

An ice-pick-shaped spike of pain dug into Cisco's temple, and his connection was severed immediately. He cried out, dropping his extended hand and ripping the goggles off with the other.

"Gah," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that would somehow dispel the ballooning pain in his head. "No dice. Still don't have the right frequency."

"We're closer, though. I could tell." Cisco heard a rattle and the pop of a plastic lid. "Here."

When he opened his eyes, he saw Nora extending two aspirin. He accepted them gratefully.

His initial shock at seeing Nora Allen alive and well had dissipated quickly. She was kind and heartfelt, but not with a lack of directness. Her demeanor didn't allow Cisco to stay starstruck. As soon as Barry Two briefed her on the issue, she had bee-lined for the workshop. Other earths, breaches, doppelgangers: she took it all in stride. She'd accepted Cisco's intellect without question, which he appreciated, and she was instantly, perhaps irrationally, trusting. When he'd questioned her about Henry's whereabouts, she'd answered honestly that's she'd told him to go on to Atlantis without her.

"It's safer there," she'd said. "I didn't want him getting caught up in the danger here. The last thing I want is for him to get caught in the crossfire of a war."

 _The last thing I want is for_ you _of all people to get caught in the crossfire,_ Cisco had thought privately, but it seemed like the kind of comment that might spark further questions, so he'd kept it to himself.

As he swallowed his aspirin, following what had to have been the fifth time testing out the goggles' frequency, he felt Nora's eyes on him again. Even though he was used to being around her by now, there were certain moments when she looked at him that he felt an unidentifiable measure of discomfort. Something like guilt. He kept his face down, scratching at the side of the goggles with a fingernail.

"We'll get there," Nora assured him. "Just a few more adjustments."

"And what if it's me?" Cisco said. "Jay told me I could open breaches, but what if I just…can't? What then?"

"You need rest," Nora said. "That's the first issue we need to solve. You've overtaxed yourself, and you're doing your body no favors by pushing your powers so hard."

"But my friends are—"

"In danger; you told me." Nora plucked the goggles from his hands and placed them delicately on the table. "But we've been working on this for three hours without a break. A warm bed and a warmer meal will do you a great deal of good for when you actually need to face this thing you're up against."

Cisco smirked. "You sound just like a mom."

"I am a mom." When she brushed her reddish hair from her face, Cisco noticed that they were coupled with a few strands of gray. He looked away hurriedly. "That means I have the authority to tell you when you need to eat more, because you eat like a bird."

"Bet you never had to tell Barry that," Cisco joked, though he still kept his gaze firmly planted on the floor.

"No, it was my parents who always complained about how skinny he was," Nora said with a laugh that was warm and smoky like a campfire. "I saw firsthand what damage he could do with a pizza. That is, before we learned he was lactose intolerant." Cisco smirked, wondering suddenly what Barry Two and Iris Two were doing. Sleeping, most likely. They hadn't once disturbed the sanctity of Nora's workshop. "You called Barry your best friend."

"Yeah," Cisco said, grabbing for a forgotten apple at one of the other tables. "We've been best friends for two years now, ever since he got struck by lightning." He took a bite, chewed slowly. "Different than your Barry. But the same heart, I think."

"He's lucky to have you," Nora said.

"He's lucky to have you," Cisco countered automatically. He froze when he realized his mistake. Nora looked at him curiously behind her square glasses.

"What's the matter?"

"Hm?" Cisco took another bite of apple, his chewing deliberate.

"Don't think I haven't noticed how strange you've been acting around me," Nora said. "Ever since you got here. Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

It wasn't a cruel question, but a gentle one. An invitation. Cisco flashed back to Barry's old house, the hologram-like projections of Nora Allen crying on the floor moments before her death.

"My business partner, Tess, always had an estranged relationship with her mother," Nora submitted, when Cisco failed to answer. "The Morgans were disapproving of her choices, her aspirations—her soul."

Cisco perked up. "Tess Morgan? You work with Tess Morgan?"

"One of the greatest minds of our generation," Nora said. "And the best friend I've ever had."

"But she's—" _Earth-2. She_ _'_ _s not dead._ "She was Harrison Wells' wife."

"Oh, far from it," Nora said, laughing a laugh like she was in on some private joke. "My point is, I saw her relationship with her mother, and how it tore her apart. I would hate to see your Barry suffer from a mother who doesn't give him the love he deserves, if that is the case."

"That's, oh, God, no, that's not…" Cisco wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry; he settled on a stuttering kind of inhale, a shiver. "You don't have to worry about that."

"Then what do I have to worry about?" Before Cisco could even begin to scramble for an answer, Nora put a hand on his arm. "You don't need to answer that, Cisco. Whatever's bothering you, I hope you don't think of me any differently for it."

"Of course not," Cisco said, blinking up at Nora, flattened by the amount of warmth that could be emitted by those green eyes. "You're incredible, Mrs. Allen, and I don't think I could ever fix these goggles without your help. But for now, I think I'll take your advice on that nap."

"Downstairs, down the hall, last door on the right. That's the guest bedroom." Nora withdrew her hand. "I'll keep working on this. Please, help yourself to whatever you need."

"Thanks," Cisco said. He picked up his granola bar wrappers and the remainder of his apple and trudged down the stairs. The house was quiet, but he couldn't stop hearing screams.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Comments are appreciated.**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	8. Chapter 8

**Additional warning for added blood/injury this chapter. You all have been asking for whump. Ask and ye shall receive.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

When Iris passed by Caitlin's workroom, the scientist was still hard at work. From the looks of it, she'd hardly moved—then again, Iris had been asleep for a number of hours, so she couldn't be certain that Caitlin hadn't retired for a short nap as well. It was the only thing that kept her from barging into the workroom and demanding her friend sleep.

Though she'd slept for a meager four hours, the lack of sleep could not penetrate Iris' bubble of anxiety, her need for activity. The restlessness was ingrained in her blood; it was no wonder she and Barry had gotten along so well. She felt it boiling in her veins, the propulsion of action, the need to be useful.

If she couldn't be useful on the tech side of things, she'd just have to find some other outlet.

The lab was so quiet that Iris could hear Harry's fingers tapping on a keyboard from down the hall. She gravitated toward it, feeling as though she was walking through some kind of dream world. She couldn't tell if the lights in the hallway were actually dimmer, or if that was a product of the suspended-in-time impression that had taken hold.

"Harry," she said, swinging into the conversation and the room at once. "Can I ask you for something?"

"Depends what it is," Harry said. He had his back to her, hunched his desk. Cisco's desk, Iris noted, was pointedly untouched. It was Harry's M.O. to sit in Cisco's chair, tinker with bits of discarded projects on Cisco's desk, fiddle with Cisco's computer—but for all that, everything might as well have been layered in dust.

"All of that information you have on Earth-2," Iris said. "You have all of it on a flashdrive, yeah?"

"That's correct," Harry said. "Why do you ask?"

"I need to stay busy," Iris explained. "Since I can't help with anything you're working on—"

"No."

"—I thought I might start doing some research of my own. Try to find out a little more about Zoom's history to predict his future. Start creating a plan of action for when we do face him again."

"I don't know how much you'll find," Harry grumbled. "Years I've been working to stop Zoom. I doubt you'll make any Pulitzer-scale discoveries, if that's what you're hoping for."

"I'm not hoping for recognition," Iris said, irked. "I'm hoping for information. Can you give it to me or not?"

Harry dropped the screwdriver he'd been holding, pursed his lips. With the stiffness of someone who'd been extremely inconvenienced, he shuffled through his backpack and produced a flashdrive. His under-handed toss sent it soaring across the room toward Iris.

"Thanks," she said coolly. "I'll give it back when I'm done."

"Good luck," Harry said. The low timbre of his voice was impossible to identify as sincere or sarcastic. Iris chose to accept the former.

"I don't need luck," she said. She lifted the flashdrive. "Just good, solid information. Truthful information. I trust all of this is accurate?"

Harry held up his hands. "No secrets here anymore."

A sliver of guilt twinged in Iris' stomach. "No secrets. See you soon."

She retreated from the lab with the flashdrive pressed tight in her palm. It seemed so small, to contain the archives of another earth. If she was being honest with herself, the whole idea of parallel earths was still daunting. It had been one thing when Barry had explained the concept of alternate timelines, the timeline where she had learned his identity weeks earlier—it was even more daunting considering the place where he was now, somewhere that felt non-physical. He was no longer in existence, just a figment of something she'd once been able to hold.

"Iris."

Iris had been so focused on the object in her hand that she nearly collided with the figure that blocked her path.

"Jay," she said, her hand flying to her heart. "You startled me. Hi."

"What are you up to?" Jay frowned down at her. Grease covered his hands and streaked a line along his chin. It made him look paler. Had he been awake this whole time, even after using up so much speed?

"Just getting some information from Harry," Iris said. She studied his face for a few more seconds before looking away. She hadn't realized they were standing outside of Caitlin's workroom. It came as an even bigger surprise that Caitlin was finally sleeping, though still in her chair, with her cheek pressed flat against her desk. "Oh, good, she's out."

"What kind of information?" Jay pressed.

"Information on Earth-2," Iris said, tearing her eyes away from Caitlin and holding up the flashdrive. "I figure I can do a little research on Zoom, see if I can find any connections between his past murders, that kind of thing. The more we know about him the better."

"Hm," Jay said, unreadable. "I knew you were smart. That's a good idea, Iris."

"Thanks," said Iris. "You'll let her rest, won't you?"

Jay looked over toward Caitlin. "She was going to work on getting me speed. To fight Zoom."

"I think you can spare her a few hours," Iris said, narrowing her eyes. "Right?"

Jay's jaw twitched once before he turned back to Iris. "Of course," he said. His face softened. "Yes, of course. I didn't mean—"

"I know you didn't mean it," Iris said. She'd never really established a close bond with Jay, but she reached out now to put a comforting hand on his arm. It seemed the right thing to do, especially in these trying times. Physical closeness was a way of anchoring the team to each other, particularly in a time when two members were physically adrift. "We're all stressed. I know you just want to help in this fight against Zoom. Don't worry—we'll find a way to get you speed."

Jay smiled tightly. "Don't worry about me," he said. "You've got bigger things to worry about, it seems."

Iris ran her thumb over the plastic surface of the tiny flashdrive. "Yeah," she said, pocketing it. "I guess I do. Talk to you later, Jay."

She walked away with renewed purpose, however contrived it might have been. There was no telling what kind of information she'd be able to find in Harry's data banks, not when he'd spent so long actually living the events she'd be researching—but she'd take whatever she could get.

As she walked away, hers were the only set of footsteps. She could sense, more than see, that Jay had remained at Caitlin's door: a silent guardian angel, a grease-streaked watchdog, or something between the two.

* * *

Even though Barry hadn't eaten in days, even though he had just watched Frost consume an entire loaf of crusty bread, he didn't feel the slightest bit weak or hungry anymore. He paced back and forth in his cell, a caged tiger, restless.

"You're gonna wear yourself out before the fight even gets to you, honey," Frost said. It was the first she'd spoken in a while; perhaps sensing the depth of Barry's anger, she'd elected to stay quiet while he raged. She had made herself small against the back of her cell, as if she was anticipating the explosion when Barry came face to face with Zoom—Jay—again.

"Any minute," Barry growled, clenching and unclenching his fists. "The speed gun is charged. He should be here."

"Awful quick you've gone from crying on the floor to praying for his return," Frost commented. "Just saying."

"I'm going to kill him," Barry said. "I'm going to tear him apart."

"Good luck with that," Frost said idly. "Usually it's the fish in the barrel who gets blown to pieces, not the man with the gun."

Suddenly, the man in the iron mask pounded on the glass—not a message this time, but a warning. He sensed things that the others did not, Barry had found. Sure enough, seconds later, Zoom snapped into existence.

At the sight of the speedster, an overwhelming hatred rose up in Barry's chest like bile. He felt the Speed Force boil up inside him, too, erasing all weakness. _Traitor_ , the Speed Force seemed to say through him. _You_ _'_ _re a traitor_.

"Jay!"

The word erupted, sizzled in the cool air. Zoom stiffened, his back to Barry.

"What did you say?"

"The game's over," Barry continued hotly. "Take off the mask, Jay. I know it's you."

At first, Barry wasn't sure Zoom would respond. He stayed stock still, even his vibrating energy stalled, his breathing imperceptible. In that moment, in a sliver of time so brief it could hardly be accounted for, Barry wondered if the man in the mask was wrong about Jay. He _hoped_ he was wrong about Jay.

But when Zoom hooked two fingers under his chin, pulled away the mask, and swiveled toward Barry, the familiarity of his features sent Barry's stomach plummeting. The only difference was the long, red burn across the side of his face, a burn that refused to heal.

"How did you guess?" Even without the effect of vibrating vocal chords, Jay's voice was low and dangerous. He regarded Barry with distaste; perhaps he always had, but his eyes had always been masked.

"There was no guessing involved," Barry spat. "You can't hide your identity forever, Jay."

"Hunter," said the other man, tilting his chin. "My name is Hunter Zolomon. Jay Garrick is an identity I assumed. The real Jay Garrick is the one who will pay for his mistake."

He angled toward the man in the mask, who stood his ground admirably. Before Hunter could make a move toward him, though, Barry banged the glass to draw his attention back.

"Hey, he had nothing to do with it," he shouted. "It's me you want, isn't it? _Isn_ _'_ _t it_? And you're stuck here. You're trying to use my speed to get back to Earth-1. You're trapped."

"Not quite," said Hunter, with a twitch of a smile on his face. "You see, when you had the brilliant plan to come to Earth-2, I created a time remnant—an exact copy of myself, meant to watch over Earth-1 while I was dealing with you here. He was never meant to survive, you see, but then your friends went and threw a wrench in the plan, as usual."

"So he's still on Earth-1," Barry said, the swell of anger drawing back, if only for a moment. "You're in two places at once."

"Still trapped on Earth-1," Hunter said, and this time he didn't look at Barry, or at the man in the mask. He looked at Frost. "Trapped there with all of your delightful little friends."

It dawned on Barry as it never had before, the horror of it sweeping him up into fury once more. Caitlin, Iris, Joe, Harry, Jesse—none of them knew. They were blind mice playing straight into the jaws of the tiger.

"You _coward_!" Barry shouted, drawing upon every reserve of energy as he threw himself again and again at the glass. "You're a pathetic— _pathetic_ —coward! You have no power—you're a fraud—pretending like you're special when you just _take_ —you pretend like you're all-powerful but you're—so—weak—"

By now, his skin was thrumming with energy. With each slam against the glass, he felt the lightning spark, felt the motor revving inside his chest, felt it rising to the surface. He was running on empty, but empty was just enough. He was vibrating, vibrating faster than he ever had before, the wrath itself making his body immaterial, his hand pushing through solid glass—

"Oh no you don't," Hunter snarled, lunging forward.

He met Barry halfway through the glass and tackled him backward. Both went soaring; but even with his renewed burst of energy, the loser was always going to be Barry. He ended up on his back, and his broken rib screamed. Before he could force air into his lungs, agony erupted in his side: leather-tipped claws left five bloody gashes down his side, from the bottom of his ribcage to the top of his hipbone. Barry gasped, feeling the hot blood welling up and soaking his side. Hunter pressed down on the wound and leaned close.

"Don't want to damage anything major this time," he said. "But if you try to phase out of here again, I'll carve out a smile under your chin."

He relinquished his weight from Barry's chest, but Barry could only lay there, wheezing past the paralyzing hurt in his side. His hands slicked with blood when he touched the wounds, the floor puddling with red. The gashes flared to life at his touch, and for an instant he couldn't see or hear a thing.

He became vaguely aware of his surroundings again when he heard Hunter's voice command: "Freeze it."

Barry's eyes fluttered open, and, through stunted consciousness, he saw Frost standing outside his cell. Hunter pressed her forward with one hand, his other still dripping with blood.

"I can't, and you know that," Frost said. "I can't freeze this glass."

"No," said Hunter. "But you can still make this cell cold enough to get our guest's attention. Do it now, or you and him will have matching scars."

Frost's eyes found Barry's, her murky white irises clouded with doubt. He tried convey a look of _just do it_ , but by the time he managed it, Frost had already done it.

She hadn't needed his permission.

The temperature drop was instantaneous, jarring, and persistent. Blue and white clouded the outside of the cell where Frost's hands made contact, the energy billowing like drops of food coloring in water. The ice didn't stick to the glass like it usually would have, but it still forced cold inward, an inverse radiator, working so fast that Barry's second breath steamed the air. By the third, he felt as though he was sucking in ice crystals.

"A little more. There you go."

Barry wasn't sure when the shivering started, just that once he noticed it, he couldn't stop. It took control of his entire body, paralyzing in its own right, the fingers that had once been warm with blood were now numb, crimson liquid sticky like half-dried paint.

"That's enough," Hunter said at long last, just when Barry was sure he was on the verge of freezing solid. "Our house guest should be here any minute."

As it always did, the cold dragged Barry's senses down with the temperature; speed was no longer a consideration or an advantage. Time grew strangely rigid, fixed, and Barry found himself confused by the speed at which Hunter deposited Frost back in her cell and put on his mask. Barry hissed through chattering teeth, needing to get off the frozen ground but unable to. Blood pulsed sluggishly from his side. Consciousness flickered.

"Zoom!"

The voice echoed down the halls, familiar in the way that an old dream might. Between the haziness of pain and the distortion of unfamiliarity, Barry couldn't initially place the speaker. He watched the figure approach, a specter. It was only when the man's face came into view that Barry realized who it was.

"I don't appreciate being summoned like a dog," Dante Ramon said, planting his feet apart like a soldier might. "Then again, you seem to be starting a menagerie of your own."

His gaze circled the room lazily, taking in the man in the mask and Barry with indifference and Frost with a sort of smugness.

"They have their uses," Hunter said. "As do you. I need you to run me an errand."

Dante crossed his arms. "What kind of errand?"

"You doubtless know about the death of your brother?"

"You dropped his body at my doorstep," Dante said, quieter, more dangerous.

Barry could practically sense the grin under Hunter's mask. "This Earth-1 Flash and his friend were responsible."

Dante's eyes slid to Barry. His face darkened. Barry wanted to protest, but his tongue didn't work, and he had stones in his throat.

"Now," Hunter continued, "I know how much your brother meant to you. I still have use of this Flash, but his companion is still on this Earth. You will hunt him down for me, end him, and get your revenge."

"Dante," Barry whined, but if the other man heard him, he ignored it.

"What does he look like?"

"He is your brother's doppelganger," Hunter rumbled. He paused, watching Dante's face flicker. "I trust that won't be a problem?"

Dante was resolute when he said, "Not in the slightest. I'll find him. And I'll make him wish he'd never set foot on this earth."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Comments are appreciated!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	9. Chapter 9

**I hope you're ready for 3,500 words of Cisco!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Even though he had been anticipating it, Cisco still woke up confused. The confusion of a deep sleep, but a short one—he felt as though he'd been plunged into the ocean just long enough to lose consciousness, and now he was being hauled out by a fishing net, dripping and heavy. Light was trickling through gauzy curtains, which was disorienting, given the fact that he was sure it had been dusk when he'd gone to sleep. He was on a soft bed with a patchwork quilt drawn up over his shoulders, which was also not right, because the only handmade blanket he owned was so holey it couldn't possibly provide any warmth.

He rolled to his side and squinted at his watch. The glowing green interface announced that it was 7:13 in the morning.

"Shit," Cisco muttered, tangling himself up in the quilt in his haste to vacate the bed. "Oh, shit."

He stumbled to the only other piece of furniture in the room, a dresser, where he'd thoughtlessly kicked off his shoes before collapsing the night before. He tugged on his shoes with a good deal of effort and an even greater deal of cursing; so much for saving time by not untying his shoes. As he staggered against the dresser, his gaze caught the few framed pictures that took residence there. One was a perfectly-staged photo of Barry Two and Iris Two's wedding. Iris' dress fit her like a glove, and glimpses of her legs peeked through diamond-shaped cutouts along the bottom, in that peculiar Earth-2 fashion. Barry Two beamed beside her in a tuxedo jacket trimmed with electric blue.

A more candid photo sat beside it: a college graduation ceremony, Barry Two in a black gown and cap with his parents on either side. Nora planted a kiss on his temple while Henry grinned at something off camera. Or, perhaps, he was not grinning at anything at all, but at the bright future that they were suspended in front of. Barry Two was the only one looking at the camera. He'd neglected his glasses, and his eyes scrunched up in that way they did when he was unabashedly joyful.

Cisco's gut twisted. "Damnit," he muttered again, and he pulled on the other shoe.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" he burst when he made it back upstairs to the workshop. "I slept the entire night!"

Nora, still hunched over a table like she'd never moved, looked up. "Good morning. I've been working on it while you slept."

"I slept too long," Cisco said, running a hand over his face. "You should've gotten me up."

"Hardly," Nora said. "Besides, I believe I've figured out the last piece. A literal last piece, mind you. I have to run by Mercury Labs to get it, and they don't open until eight. Why don't you join Barry and Iris downstairs while I run over?"

"Is there any use in me protesting?" Cisco asked.

"Nope," Nora said. "There's nothing for you to do until I come back with the part. Just sit tight and try to wake yourself up. It's going to be another long day."

Longer, Cisco thought, with nothing to do. When Nora finally left the house at five minutes to eight, Cisco spent a quarter of an hour doing nothing but pacing the upstairs, one end of the workshop to the other. Then, when even that became too boring, he ventured downstairs for breakfast.

Barry Two and Iris Two looked far better than Cisco felt, though perhaps that was because they had not starved themselves of sleep the day before. They both sat on the living room couch watching a tiny television in the corner and hardly took notice when Cisco padded past into the kitchen. They'd had the good graces to leave him some cold scrambled eggs and bacon, which he piled up on a plate and carried into the living room.

"…found dead at an abandoned warehouse just outside of Central City." The news anchor on TV caught Cisco's attention, and he took a seat with a piece of bacon halfway in his mouth. "Mayor Snart called an emergency press conference this morning after an anonymous tip concerning the dark speedster _Zoom_ …"

"Mayor Snart?" Cisco said, taken aback.

"I called her last night," Iris Two said. "She agreed to pass along a warning."

"She?" Cisco said, doubly confused, but before anyone could answer, Lisa Snart appeared on screen. Her hair, so voluminous on Earth-1, was cropped short against her head, and her lips glimmered dark red.

"A tip from inside the CCPD last confirmed that the metahuman known as Zoom is on a rampage, with multiple sightings across the city," she said, her gold earrings twinkling as she spoke. "I have declared an indefinite state of emergency and will be enacting metahuman attack protocols. I urge the citizens of Central City to take precautions and stay indoors unless absolutely necessary. And please, _please_ , look after your neighbors and your loved ones. We must unify in these trying times, rather than give into fear."

The screen cut away from Lisa and back to the newscaster, who appeared unflappable. "The state of emergency follows two days of panic, after Zoom spread the message 'Bring Me Wells' across the city. The scientist's whereabouts are currently unknown, as are the whereabouts of the Flash. The Flash has been missing and presumed dead for months, and some speculate that he was killed by Zoom himself…"

The news report droned on, and Cisco found himself catching less and less as he continued to eat. He suspected Barry Two and Iris Two weren't listening, either. There was nothing new to learn, just speculation and half-truths of things the three of them wished they didn't know.

Nora came back an hour later, and her arrival spurred on a new wave of motivation. She and Cisco took to the second floor again, renewed, and the two of them set upon the goggles immediately.

"You're brilliant," Cisco said when Nora produced the new part: an additional power source. "This is exactly what we need."

"Let's hope so," Nora said. "There's only one way to find out."

The shifting shadows on the floor were the only indication to Cisco that any time was passing—without looking at his watch, he would never have been able to decipher the hours that passed. The afternoon sun brought up thoughts of food again, but this time Barry Two and Iris Two anticipated the fact that neither Cisco nor Nora could be torn from the work. Sandwiches were delivered to the workroom promptly and without much comment, and Cisco devoured his tastelessly, frantic with the tangibility of success.

As he worked, his mind wandered ceaselessly back to the photos he'd seen in the guest bedroom. Of all things to think about, he always circled back to it, and every time it made him feel sicker. When they finished the goggles, he would return to Earth-1 immediately to face that version of Jay.

 _I won_ _'_ _t leave you_ , he'd told Barry.

 _One more rescue attempt. I won_ _'_ _t leave before that_ , he'd told Harry.

There were two versions of Zoom in existence. If Cisco and the rest were killed by one, there would be nobody to make that rescue attempt. Even if they beat one, it would be for nothing if Cisco wasn't able to make it back to Earth-2. The photo of a grinning Barry Two popped back into Cisco's mind, and this time he allowed the train of thought to worm its way further, back into Zoom's lair, back to the cold glass cell. Another day and half had gone by so quickly. Cisco wondered if Barry had eaten, if he'd slept, if he was even still alive—but, of course, he was still alive. Jay needed that much, at least.

The Jay of Earth-1 didn't need that much of Caitlin and Iris and the rest. And that was the thought that kept Cisco resolute in his decision to leave.

It was late afternoon when, after many near-successes and a fair bit of fine-tuning, that Cisco felt a tug of vibrational energy so concrete and so pure that he let out a whoop.

"I feel something," he said. He touched to the fingers to the side of the vibe goggles as if that might steady him. "It makes sense, it…I can feel it, and I think I can…"

He held out a fist. The world looked blue to him, but it felt silver: like little strands of piano wire around him, stretched taut, musical in their own way. He felt through them, reaching, knowing instinctively which ones to pluck in order to open up the correct frequency. A resonant tune, a familiar tune, but one that had no sound, traveled up through his arm and rattled his bones.

"It's working," Nora breathed beside him, and he knew it too. He felt the breach opening up around his fist, swirling and pulsing in its instability. It grew to the size of a basketball before sputtering out, but even that was enough to make Cisco practically leap across the room toward Nora.

"Did you see that?" he said, ripping the goggles from his face and grabbing onto her arm. "I did it. I actually opened a bitty mini breach."

"It'll be a lot more than a bitty mini breach with some practice and a few more adjustments," Nora said, beaming. "I knew you could do it."

"Wow," said Cisco, falling back into a chair. "That felt amazing. It's like…the whole universe, just…" He gestured wildly, trying to convey the feeling, but there was no way to do so. "I feel like it all just clicked. Right there. Like a light switch."

"It sounds amazing," Nora said. "Do you think it can get you home?"

She might as well have said, _Are you prepared to jump into the lion_ _'_ _s den?_

"I think so," Cisco said. "I think that if—"

A boom shuddered the house. A scream shrilled up from the ground floor. Glass shattered.

Cisco and Nora froze.

"Was that an earthquake?" Cisco managed, before all hell broke loose.

The house rattled with a shock so violent it sent Cisco flying into a table. Nora fell back into a chair, and a beaker tumbled off a nearby table and broke into pieces. The one earthquake that Cisco had been in, fourteen years ago when he'd visited the coast of California, had been a continuous and predictable vibration. The rise and fall of an invisible tide, half a minute of rolling earth before a hush.

This was nothing like an earthquake. The pulses of motion struck irregularly, in bursts—but each burst was ten times as powerful as what Cisco had known. The walls creaked, books cascaded from their shelves, tables tipped. And then, with one horrendous cracking noise, the roof began to collapse.

"We have to get out of here!" Cisco shouted. He heard more screams downstairs, a bang as something large toppled. "Come on!"

" _Mom_!"

"Metahuman," Nora panted, hitting another chair as the floor bucked and a chunk of roof sailed down. "This is a metahuman. Zoom must have—"

 _Must have found us_ , Cisco said, but the sickness in his gut was quickly forgotten when he was thrown off of his feet. His elbow hit the floor, first, hard. He barely had time to recover before a beam from the ceiling sailed down toward him. He rolled, missing impact by inches.

" _Mom!_ "

"The house is falling apart!" Nora screamed at Cisco unnecessarily. Amid the violent shaking of the floor, the shattering glass and the _thump thump thump_ of medical dictionaries, she stumbled drunkenly toward Cisco. A quake, larger than before, opened up a crack in the floor, and she dived away just in time.

All of Cisco's instincts flared: _go, go, go_. He looked up, saw his goggles a few feet away where they'd fallen from the table. He pushed himself up, reached for them—

The hunk of wood that fell from the ceiling hit so fast, Cisco could hardly believe his own eyes. One minute his device was within reach; the next, it was split into two pieces, crushed, mangled. Cisco stared slack-jawed at the ruin, unable to comprehend, vaguely aware that Nora had her hands on his arms and was hauling him upright.

"Leave it," she said. "We have to go."

They took the stairs two at a time. Sometimes three at a time, depending on the severity of the quaking. On the ground floor, furniture had overturned; jagged cracks crawled up the walls; the huge clock on the living room wall lay on the floor in two pieces. Barry Two and Iris Two were nowhere to be found.

Outside, a gun fired. Without further hesitation, Cisco grabbed Nora by the sleeve and pulled her bodily out the door.

The scene in the street was no less chaotic than the one inside the house. Duskiness sapped color from everything, giving the neighborhood the eerie impression of liminality. Houses all down the street were dark—perhaps a result of the metahuman lockdown, perhaps because their residents wanted to stay as far away as possible from the action happening in the street.

The metahuman in question stood in the center of the street, dressed in reds and blacks, wielding some sort of scythe. _Grim Reaper_ , Cisco thought. _Zoom has literally sent Death._

Two more gunshots rang out, close enough to startle Cisco. Iris Two crouched in the driveway, partially shielded by the car parked there. She held her gun in one hand and gesticulated with the other, a clear order of _go, I_ _'_ _ll hold him off._

But just as she was turning back to the street, the metahuman's low voice reached them.

"It will take more than bullets to stop me."

A burst of red light lit up the sky. An energy blast, the very same that had shaken Nora's house on its foundations, hit the car that Iris Two was hiding behind and sent it spinning through the air. Cisco shoved Nora sideways, and metal screeched in his ears.

"No!"

When Cisco looked up again, the car lay on its side in the neighboring yard with a dent the size of a bowling ball punched into its side, Iris Two motionless in the driveway. Barry Two, emerging from his hiding place behind a row of hedges, sprinted toward his wife, across open ground, open, vulnerable.

And then it hit Cisco: he wasn't running to Iris Two. He was running unarmed toward the metahuman.

"Stop!" Cisco yelled, tearing away toward the street. "Stop, Barry! He wants me. He's here for me." His feet met pavement. He held out a hand and, miraculously, Barry Two slowed. Standing between Barry Two and the metahuman and suddenly very aware of how equally defenseless he was, Cisco swallowed and turned toward the meta. "You're here for me, aren't you? Nobody else has to get hurt."

The meta's face, covered in a mask, turned toward Cisco, and Cisco got the distinct impression that he had suddenly turned into a bug about to be hit by a windshield.

"Francisco," said the meta. "You killed my brother. It's time for you to die."

Reasonably, Cisco thought, the threat should have been the thing to give him pause. Instead, he frowned, and asked, "How do you know my name? And why do you think I killed anybody?"

The meta's hand tightened on the scythe. The other hand went up to his face and touched the side of his visor. With a _shink_ , the metal retracted.

The face was exactly the same as the face he knew: the same jawline, the same eyes, even the same haircut. There was anger there, a level of anger he had never seen on his brother's face, but the downturn of his mouth, the way his ears flushed with emotion before his cheeks ever did—and those hands, the long, piano fingers that Cisco had once seen blue with frostbite—

Cisco's breath hitched. " _Dante_?"

"Don't pretend like you know me," Dante Two said. "Murderer."

Without further ado, he thrust his scythe outward, and a jet of red light blasted toward Cisco.

Cisco ducked just in time, rolling to the ground and skidding against the concrete. "Dante, wait!" Another red burst soared his way, missing him by inches and blowing a hole in the pavement. A hot chunk of street struck Cisco across the cheek, sending stars blinking across his vision. "I didn't kill your brother. I didn't kill Reverb. It was Zoom!"

But the assault was relentless. He crawled away, barely, from another blast. "Quiet," Dante Two growled. "Don't fight it."

Cisco smelled smoke. Another blast of concrete deafened him. He did the only thing he could: he threw up a hand in a universal "stop" gesture.

Dante Two's feet left the ground as the vibrational blast hit him. He soared ten feet and collided with a white picket fence, sending up splinters and dust.

Jaw hanging open, Cisco looked down at his palm. Had he done that? He'd seen Reverb do it, sure, those damaging blasts that had laid Barry flat—

He was so shell-shocked by the involuntary action that he wasn't prepared for the retaliating blast that struck him square in the chest. He registered the sensation of weightlessness, tangled limbs and screeching wind, before his world buckled with pain and all other senses shorted out.

Sight fizzled back in bursts, sparks of awareness. _If you pass out, you die_ , he struggled to tell himself, but the throbbing, searing pain at the base of his skull informed him, _You don_ _'_ _t have a choice._ He realized that he was crumpled against the overturned car, and there was blood trickling down his neck from the back of his head.

Dante Two strode toward him, relentless. Cisco made an attempt to scramble away, seeking shelter behind the vehicle, but the movement made the world tilt toward darkness. Instead, when Dante Two raised the scythe again, Cisco squeezed his eyes shut and once more raised his hand. The energy rose up in him and exploded outward, and he heard the scythe's metallic clatter ten, thirty, fifty feet away.

Yet, when Cisco opened his eyes, Dante Two had not halted. Weaponless, he advanced—the smoldering hatred on his face the only thing Cisco needed to be convinced he was about to die.

"Dante, wait," he slurred, trying and failing to pick himself off the ground. "You don't want to do this."

"You don't know what I want," Dante Two said. He stalked forward the last few feet, and Cisco shrank back.

"I didn't kill Reverb," Cisco said, right before Dante Two landed a kick straight into his gut.

"Stop lying to me," said Dante Two, leveling another kick at Cisco's shoulder. "You. Killed. Him."

"Did Zoom tell you that?" Cisco wheezed. "Did Zoom also tell you that he killed Deathstorm, too? And Killer Frost? He killed all of them, for disobeying orders."

Dante Two grabbed the front of his shirt, lifted him, tossed him bodily backward. The impact jarred Cisco dangerously close to the edge again, and he didn't even have the strength to flinch away when Dante Two towered over him. "Shut up!"

"I won't fight you," Cisco said sluggishly. "I'm sorry about your brother. I know how hard it must be—I wont—fight—"

Dante Two hurtled down toward him, fist crashing into his face. "You don't know anything," he said, another punch connecting. "You're a liar. You killed him. You deserve this."

"We can stop Zoom," Cisco managed. His mouth was filled with copper. "Please. You know I'm telling the truth. I'm so sorry." He held up a hand against the onslaught, a beating bred from grief, and he _understood_ , he did, but with each new punch he couldn't help but think _I can_ _'_ _t die like this_ — "Please, Larrocha."

The punches halted. In that breath of respite, through fast-closing darkness, Cisco finally made out the tear tracks down his assailant's cheeks. Dante Two's raised fist, bloodied, trembled.

"What did you call me?" he said. When Cisco didn't respond, his weak grip on consciousness finally opening, Dante Two shook him by the front of the shirt. "What did you call me?"

But it was over. With a whoosh of something like weightlessness, Cisco felt himself going blind, deaf, senseless—dark.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed a little taste of the action; comments make the world go around.**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	10. Chapter 10

Caitlin was staring listlessly into her second cup of coffee, watching a spiraling cloud of cream, when Harry appeared in the doorway to say, "It's time."

He said it as if she hadn't been counting down the seconds, as if she hadn't spent the last three hours and the last cup and a half of coffee agonizing over the clock. It was the worst in the speed cannon room, where an actual digital clock ticked down the seconds. She'd had a hard enough time ignoring it while she'd been actively working, but now that they were down to the final minutes, it was downright impossible.

"Please tell me there's good news." Iris sidled up beside Caitlin, arms crossed.

"The good news is we think we can open the breach again," Harry said from where he sat tinkering with the speed cannon. "The question of whether or not anyone will actually come through, however, is an entirely different one." He glanced up and caught Joe's glare. "What, you're going to get mad at me for being honest?"

"A little optimism wouldn't kill you," Joe said, and Caitlin agreed with him, even though she personally shared the weight of Harry's words. She looked back down at the clock. T-minus two minutes.

"What do we do if Zoom comes after them?" she said. "If he follows them through the breach?"

"Already covered," said Iris. Caitlin looked over to see her hefting the tranq gun that had stopped Zoom the first time. Joe unholstered his own gun as well: a security-blanket measure if anything.

"If anyone or anything other than Cisco and Barry comes through, they'll be down on arrival."

Harry straightened and gave the speed cannon a final tap before taking a spot beside Jesse. His own gun waited for him, comically-large but also hollowly comforting. "Everything good on your end, Garrick?"

At the other bank of computers, Jay nodded. "Everything tells me this should work. It's going to be incredibly unstable, so it'll only be open for a minute, max—hopefully Cisco is punctual."

"He will be," Caitlin said firmly. "He'll be here. With Barry."

She hadn't told them that she'd spent half an hour prepping the med bay: sterilizing the examination table, straightening syringes and stitching needles, hanging fresh IV bags. It was her deepest hope that her friends would come through unscathed, that she would spend the morning quietly putting away the supplies that she'd so diligently prepared, but she'd always been a realist at heart.

"Thirty seconds," Jay said, unnecessarily. "Ready, Wells?"

"Ready as we'll ever be."

Suddenly Caitlin wished she had something to hold. A gun wouldn't feel right, but her hands itched for something productive. A security blanket, like the rest of them had.

"Ten," Jay said, and the countdown began.

Caitlin's world went fuzzy, the rushing sound in her ears intensifying. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. _It always turns out okay,_ she thought.

She tuned back in just in time to hear the final "Three…two…one…"

The breach blossomed like a rose. Inside the liquid blue and white, the dark center pulsed with nothingness. It beckoned, a black hole to an unseen dimension. It might have been enticing, if Caitlin didn't know what lay on the other side.

Iris shifted her weight, gun leveled at the breach. Jesse let out a muffled squeak of terror. Harry mumbled, "Come on, Ramon."

The first ten seconds passed with a manageable level of anxiety. There was no way to sync up watches to the exact second, Caitlin reasoned, and even if there were, Cisco was allowed a few seconds to collect himself before diving into a breach. If Barry was badly hurt, it might take more effort to get him across a room to their point of escape, anyway.

Fifteen more seconds passed, and the tone of the room shifted dramatically. Before, the tenseness was one of the anticipation. Now, it possessed a sick quality, the chill of oncoming fever.

Joe sniffed. "You don't think…"

"They'll make it," Caitlin said firmly. "Just wait a little longer."

Still, her mind began racing again, cycling through the series of what-ifs that had preoccupied her thoughts so doggedly before. What if Cisco's rescue attempt had succeeded and he was running late? What if he was still in the middle of _planning_ his rescue attempt? What if he was with Barry, trapped in a cold, dingy, glass cell? What if he was lying somewhere, dead like his doppelganger?

The most troubling of all: what if they had to watch the breach close for good without knowing which of those _what-ifs_ was reality?

As the worry began to manifest in twitching fingertips, Caitlin felt Jay slide into place beside her and put a hand on her arm. She couldn't look at him, but even without looking she doubted even he had the capacity to produce calm.

"Do something." Joe's voice was harsh and grating, like someone had taken sandpaper to his throat, but it still commanded compliance. "Wells. Do something to stabilize the breach. Keep it open."

"You know it's not that simple—"

"I didn't ask if it was simple, I told you to do it," Joe growled. "My boys are stuck on the other side of that thing, and we're not going to close it on them."

"Dad," Iris said.

"They'll make it," Caitlin repeated.

"Fifteen seconds," Jesse whispered.

The breach faltered, distorting into uncanny shapes, stretching and lengthening without reason. Nausea roared to life in Caitlin's stomach. Jay's hand left her arm and he moved, wraith-like, across the room to the breach.

The room itself seemed on the verge of collapse, although perhaps Caitlin was simply imagining the crumbling walls around her. As the breach gasped in its death throes, she felt its paralyzing effect throughout the room: the fiery, throat-constricting, unspoken _This is it. This is the end._

In front of the breach, Jay gazed up at the sheer power of it, lost for words, so transfixed he might have been searching for something. Searching for an answer. Expecting a breakthrough. Expecting something else, entirely.

He turned back to Caitlin, and their eyes met. She couldn't put a name to the expression that passed between them, then, because in that instant, the breach imploded with an anticlimactic _whoosh_.

The vacuum that followed was impenetrable for a few seconds. Then a gun clattered to the floor, and Iris, somewhere to Caitlin's left, began to sob.

* * *

"…think he's waking up."

"Give him a little space."

"Barry, the aspirin."

Cisco groaned. He didn't recall waking up; didn't recall living in any other state but pain. With leaden hands, he reached up to his face to try and block the light, which sliced past his swollen eyelids and split open his skull. His head felt like it was on the verge of bursting, and his chest was, if possible, worse.

He tried to say something, anything, to indicate that he was _dying, help_ , but his words came out in a jumble. He heard the rattle of a pill bottle to the left, such a sharp sound it made him flinch, and then a steadying hand on his arm.

"Take these," said a voice. "They'll help."

It took Cisco another thirty seconds to work up the courage to pry open his eyes, and even so, he found he could only open them to a squint. The world swam a bit before focusing. Nora Allen's face was above him. She pressed three pills into his hand. He grunted in lieu of a thank-you and swallowed them dry.

"Easy does it," Nora said, helping him to a sitting position once the room had steadied. "I know. I know, it hurts. You took quite a few hits."

Cisco was breathing fast and shallow by the time he made it upright, fighting a fresh headache so crushing he was afraid he was about to vomit. Nora waited patiently for him to regain his composure, at which point he finally took in his surroundings.

"I expected complete destruction," he rasped.

"Not complete," Nora supplied. "Just extensive."

Cisco was sitting on the couch in Nora's living room, which looked as though it had been hit by a bomb. Everything had fallen off the walls; a table and chairs near the blown-out window lay in pieces; ceiling beams lay broken and scattered across the floor. The ceiling itself was partially destroyed, lending a partial view of the decimated workshop upstairs. Dust and debris covered every surface. A book, fallen through from the upper level, lay cover-up in a pile of other papers: _The Compleat Angler._

Barry Two perched on the coffee table, which now had a huge crack running down the middle. "It's just things. Things can be replaced."

A thought struck Cisco, too horrible to comprehend. "Iris?"

"She's fine," Nora assured him quickly. "She hit her head pretty hard, but she'll recover. She's resting in the guest room."

"The only room that's not utterly decimated," Barry Two muttered.

The relief that warmed Cisco's aching muscles was soon quenched by another realization. He didn't know why he hadn't thought of it sooner—even without the huge wall clock, the light that streamed through the broken window was enough to tell Cisco that it was late morning.

"I missed it," he said hollowly. "I missed the breach opening."

Nora's face twisted sympathetically. "You were out a long time."

Fresh panic mounted. "The goggles were destroyed," he said. "And now the breach is closed for good, too. That was my only other shot. I'm stuck here. I'm never getting home." The truth of it punched through his chest, harder than any energy blast. "Oh, God, my friends don't know they're trapped with Zoom. I can't…I can't get home…"

"Don't be so sure of that."

The voice came from kitchen. Cisco swiveled too fast, igniting new protests from his head, to see Dante Two leaning against the splintered doorframe.

"Get away," Cisco said, lifting a shaky hand, palm out. "I won't let you hurt them."

"You didn't know you could make vibrational blasts, did you?" Dante Two said, nodding at Cisco's outstretched hand. "What you did last night was an accident. You don't even realize how much more you can do with your power."

"Stay back," Cisco warned again, though he was trembling so badly he was certain he didn't cut much of an intimidating figure.

"It's alright," Nora said. "Dante's on our side now. He's been keeping watch all night."

"You'll excuse me if I find that hard to believe, given the way he pounded in my skull."

"You called me something." Dante Two moved past the barb with all the smoothness that Cisco recognized from his own brother. "Larrocha. Why is that?"

Cisco considered not answering. He ground his teeth a few seconds before giving in. "I used to call my brother that, okay? But you're not him."

"My brother used to call me that, too." Dante uncrossed his arms. His attention flickered to Barry Two and Nora. "Can you give us a minute to talk?"

Nora and Barry Two turned immediately toward Cisco, for which he was grateful. He'd had enough of other people making decisions for him, frankly. "I'll be fine," he said. "If he tries anything funny, I'll knock him down so hard he won't know which way is up."

Nora and Barry Two seemed to take this as an acceptable answer, because they backed off without question. Dante Two watched them leave, but Cisco never took his eyes off of the man who wore his brother's face.

"Larrocha," Dante finally said, moving idly into the living room. "I hadn't heard that nickname in a long time. Francisco used to call me that because—"

"Because you were insanely good at piano," Cisco finished. "And you had her haircut. Yeah, so maybe I'm subconsciously sentimental. My brother may be a lot of things, but at least he's not a homicidal Grim Reaper."

"Rupture, actually, is what they call me," Dante Two said. "I took up the mantle after Armando died." He took in Cisco's blank expression. "You don't have…Armando? Who am I on your earth, then?"

"A dick, mostly," Cisco said. But even as he said it, he had another whammy of a realization. The letter he had left for his family. Caitlin would be delivering it, now that it was clear Cisco wasn't coming back. His heart constricted and, slowly, he lowered his hand. "We never got along in our later years. I assume you did with your Cisco, given how you were willing to murder for him."

"I'm not a murderer," Dante Two said. "I never worked for Zoom, not like him. I knew what he did, of course—we were close, and we shared everything." He swallowed, hard. It was the first time Cisco looked at him, really _looked at him_ , and saw how deeply the pain ran. "I think I always knew it would end this way, him dead with a shredded heart. But I could never pull him away from that life."

"Zoom recruited you yesterday because he knew you would react like this," Cisco said. "He's a master manipulator. Believe me, I know."

"And it almost worked. I'm sorry." Dante Two finally let his guard down completely, taking Barry Two's place on the coffee table. "Grief made me irrational. Desperate. It's always had that effect. I'm sure you would be the same if you lost your brother."

Cisco tried to imagine losing Dante. He'd come close, when the two of them had been kidnapped by Snart and Rory. But that had been an immediate, visceral reaction to danger. Trying to conceptualize loss out of nothing, formulate grief out of an unattainable _what-if_ —it was impossible to do.

"It doesn't matter," Cisco said. "I'll never see him again, anyway. Since you so helpfully destroyed my goggles, there's no way for me to get back home."

"Ye of little faith, Francisco," said Dante Two with a sad kind of smile. "If you're anything like my brother, you're one of the smartest guys this earth has ever seen. And one of the most powerful. You can do so much more than open breaches and shoot off energy blasts. Those goggles only help you refine your powers."

Cisco frowned. "What do you mean, I can do more?"

"Balance, counterbalance," Dante Two said. "You can shake worlds apart. You can cut off speedsters from their source of power."

"Cut them off? We're talking about speed, not Wild Turkey."

"Francisco told me he could sense some kind of Speed Force whenever he was around Zoom," Dante Two said. "He said it was just like breaches, but instead of opening up a connection, he could feel a way to sever it. Take away Zoom's speed."

An image flashed through Cisco's mind: Zoom's speeding hand, plunging through Reverb's chest. "Why didn't he?"

Dante Two thought about this, shrugged. "He was too afraid of failing, I suppose. Maybe you two are alike in that way, as well."

Cisco shifted on the couch, a hand reaching up automatically to rub at the softball-sized bruise on his sternum. "You seem to think I can still make it back to my earth without my goggles."

"I never said that," Dante Two said. "I think you're still figuring out your powers. Seems to me that your goggles are an important part of that right now—plus, like I said, they help you focus." He clasped his hands on his lap and leaned forward in a move that was so distinctly _Dante_ , it made Cisco draw away. "I hung around my little brother a lot when he was learning about his powers and developing those goggles. I can help you. I know exactly how to make them work."

"The only problem is, those goggles are literally split in two," Cisco said. Then he froze.

"Think of something?" Dante Two prodded.

"I still have mine," Cisco said. "The ones that got broken were Reverb's. I still have the ones that I brought. I couldn't get them to work."

"I can help you get them to work," Dante Two. "That is, if you trust me enough to help you."

By all accounts, Cisco shouldn't, and he was about ready to say so. He was concussed and hurting, and he suspected bruised ribs at the very least. This Dante had beaten him the middle of a street, half-destroyed Nora's house, nearly killed Iris Two and Barry Two.

But when Cisco looked at him, he saw the face of his brother. _I_ _'_ _m sure you would do the same if you lost your brother_.

"You keep your murder scythe away from me, and I think we can work something out," he said. "And we'll have to work here. I don't think I can move from this couch."

* * *

 **Thanks so much for reading! Comments are very much appreciated!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	11. Chapter 11

"Tell me, what hurts more?" Frost said, with all the casualness of a high school sleepover. "The ice, or the betrayal?"

Barry might have retorted with a quip of his own, if he could manage any words. Instead, the only thing that passed through his lips was a whine like that of a dying animal. He hated how it sounded the instant it materialized, and he let it dissipate as his breath did.

Frost, flat on her back in some cruel imitation of him, pressed her cheek to the floor. "You with me, Flash? Not dying yet, are you? You know Zoom won't like that."

The cell hadn't gotten any warmer since Frost had chilled it—at least, not that Barry could tell. He'd stopped shivering, at least, but he suspected that had more to do with his own weakness than with the temperature. His lungs were tight with the cold, his skin ice-burnt. _Cold is the opposite of speed._ It was truer than ever. Whereas his past beatings at Hunter's hands had at least begun to heal within a few hours, the wounds from the last were as fresh as though he had just received them. It was how normal people healed, he reasoned. He could handle being a normal person. But it _hurt so damn much_.

"I don't blame you for doing this," he said through gritted teeth, even the action of speaking violating his body's command to _don_ _'_ _t move, don't move_.

"What, for frosting your prison?" said Frost with something like a guffaw. "Did I ever say I blamed myself?"

"No, I guess you didn't," Barry said. "It's just something Caitlin would do. Blame herself for things she was forced to do."

Again, the image of the fake Jay on his earth, with his friends, resurfaced. He breathed through his teeth to steady himself.

"Maybe it would be better if you did die," Frost said. "Then I wouldn't have to hear any more about that earth you're never going back to. Besides, you've got enough problems on this one. I wonder if Zoom will bring back the body of your Cisco. I think that might actually kill you, don't you think?"

With great effort, Barry twisted his body so he could properly face Frost. The movement stalled him another few seconds, the hurt radiating outward from the claw marks down his side. He pressed his fingers, already tacky with blood, to the wound. "Cisco's smart. He can take care of himself."

"Smart isn't going to protect him against Rupture. He could barely hold his own against me, and that was before all of his friends left him."

"I have faith in him," Barry said. "And before you tell me that faith won't protect him, just…stop. I know." He squeezed his eyes shut and tried for a deep breath. It ached too much. "Is Rupture really that bad?"

"He's never done much for Zoom," Frost said. "But he's a menace with that scythe if he needs to be. Reverb always spoke highly of him."

Barry didn't have a response for that, so he lapsed back into quiet. A whirl of steam rose from his mouth, ghosting out of existence. His side throbbed.

As sluggish as his body was, his mind was incessant. It constantly found new horrors for him to dwell on, one of its worst qualities. Now, as he lay on the icy floor, he thought of Cisco, and how Frost's words were spoken with unselfish honesty. As much as he trusted Cisco, and believed in him—the thought of him alone and confronted by a metahuman as powerful as Rupture was enough to provide reasonable doubt. Sure, Cisco had survived worse, always had, but they'd also always worked as a unit. Team STAR Labs, watching each other's backs, patching each other up, supplying support in moments of weakness. Now where were they? Barry was stuck here, literally sealed away from the rest. Cisco was on the run, on his own. The only comfort lay in the fact that Iris and Caitlin were at least still together, although that reassurance was further dampened by how vulnerable their position was.

No matter how he looked at it, every angle of his current picture revealed fractures and divides too deep to conquer. Separated, they were all weaker.

"What happened to you?" The question was born of desperation: he could not linger with his own thoughts any longer, and even less so with his screaming nerve endings. Even if a distraction was the only thing Frost provided, he would take it. "I mean, you don't just wake up one day and decide you're going to be a supervillain."

"You'd be surprised," Frost said. "Would you believe a bad childhood?" Barry huffed, and Frost smiled. "What about bad adulthood?"

"Were you born with your powers?"

"No," Frost said. "Your friend Harrison Wells' particle accelerator explosion. 'Course, I was asleep when it happened. Flunked out of med school that day, got so wasted that night that I couldn't make it back to my apartment. I passed out outside my door. Freezing night. Ironic, isn't it?"

"Hardly," said Barry, who'd learned long ago that powers tended to manifest at some juncture of personality and physical stimulus. Frost just pursed her lips, unconvinced.

"I woke up the next morning cold," she continued. "Pale. I thought I was just sick. Turns out I was a lot more. I moved back in with my mother, discovered my powers, and that was that."

"Having your powers didn't make you evil, though," Barry insisted.

"Have you ever had a mother who treats you as a science experiment? Cuts you open and takes a look at all the pretty pieces to find out what makes you tick?" Frost's lips twitched downward as she regarded Barry. "No? Didn't think so."

Again, that crushing silence enveloped them. Barry could sense he'd struck a nerve, but he could also see what Frost hadn't allowed him to see until now: vulnerability. It was a small thing, and he couldn't quite believe it himself. It was what prisoners did, he supposed. Spend long enough in isolation, and connection was the only way to stay alive.

"Where's that trademarked Flash optimism?" Frost said, the frustration evident in her voice. "I could really use a taste of that walking-on-sunshine thing you've always got going on."

"I'm scared," Barry said automatically. He closed his eyes, too tired to wonder where the words had come from. The fear welled up in him, in his throat. He felt his body go slack. "I think we're going to die here."

"Already way ahead of you, champ," Frost said, her voice echoey and distant from her cell across the room. "I admitted that to myself a long time ago."

"Admitting it doesn't make it any easier."

There was a long pause. A longer sigh. "No. No, it doesn't."

* * *

If anyone were to find a word for the state of STAR Labs, it would be Iris—after all, she was a writer. She was supposed to have the words for everything, even for things that were too horrible to be uttered around the dinner table. It was her job to name the unnameable. To give it form and emotion and meaning and tangibility. To make things simpler: _High-speed chase leaves two dead. Five-story apartment complex collapses after devastating fire. Biomed student missing from local college._

Now, however, she could not find a sentence capable of containing the atmosphere of the lab.

 _Flash missing in crisis_ , she thought with a hard swallow. _Vibe presumed dead._ None of those words were big enough.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed since the breach closing, but it was definitely in the range of hours. She'd nearly forgotten to call in sick to work—Joe's bull-headed decision to go to the station was the only thing that reminded her that there was still life happening outside these walls.

The speed cannon room was isolated, almost hospital-esque in its hushed quality. The closing of the breach had been a death in itself, really. The unwitting witnesses were despondent across the room. Harry's nose was inches from a computer screen like he might discover a miracle there. Caitlin sat on the steps leading down to the speed cannon, her head resting on Jay's shoulder. Jesse sat against a far wall with a cup of tea in hand. With a pang, Iris realized that the mug was one of Cisco's favorites—bright red inscribed with the words _I_ _'_ _d rather be at Hogwarts_.

"Hey," Iris said upon entering the room. The space was far too big for her voice. It didn't sound right. "I'm going to make something to eat. Does anyone want anything?"

"Food doesn't do us any good," Harry grumbled.

"No, it just keeps us standing," Iris said, though the quip sounded hollow even to her own ears. "Have you made any discoveries, or are you trying to burn out your retinas with that computer screen?"

"If I'd made any discoveries, don't you think you'd know about it?" Harry snapped. His jaw worked for a few seconds as he struggled to compose himself. Iris waited patiently with her arms crossed; she recognized the antagonism as Harry's way of releasing stress. As unpleasant as it was, Iris tried not to pass judgment. Harry was likely feeling as guilty as the rest of them. "I think it's time we resign ourselves to the reality we are in, not throw a pity party for the one we lost." He ran a hand over his face. "Look, we don't know what Zoom's capable of. It's possible he could still find a way to get to this earth, and it's our responsibility to make sure we're ready if he does."

"As much as it pains me, I have to agree with Wells," Jay said, un-slinging his arm from Caitlin's waist and rising to his feet. "Barry and Cisco aren't coming back. We can only hope for their safety on that earth, and I don't think they would want us to sacrifice ours here."

"We can't sit around and do nothing," Jesse agreed, quietly.

"What are you proposing?" Iris asked. "None of us have powers. We can't do much against a speedster without a speedster of our own."

"We might have a speedster." Caitlin stood up, hugging herself. "I've been working on a new speed serum for Jay."

"Even so, that might not be the most reliable option," Jay said, not even looking at Caitlin when he said it. "We need a way to neutralize him. Something that any of us could use." He looked at Harry. "Something to suck the Speed Force out of his body. All of it."

"Like what I did to Barry."

At the other end of the room, Jesse stood, holding the mug close to her chest. "What did you do to Barry?"

"A…" Iris could tell Harry stumbled for an instant, and it was clear that Jesse's accusatory look was the thing stopping him in his tracks. He hadn't yet told Jesse everything he'd done to get her back, Iris realized. "When I tried to give Barry's speed to Zoom, I created a device that would siphon the Speed Force from Barry's system when he ran."

The room went impossibly still. Jesse's lips tightened. "Okay, we're going to talk about that later. But didn't you have something similar on our earth?"

Harry cocked his head. "Now, that's an idea. I did have a gun in my lab that could directly suck small amounts of speed through direct contact. But I left it on that earth."

"We can still use whatever you've got," Jay said.

But Iris was still uneasy. "I don't know," she said. "Zoom wanted Barry's speed, right? Right now, he doesn't have a way to get it." _Am I being irrational_? she thought, but pressed on anyway. "If he's only keeping Barry alive for his speed right now, he'll be looking for a way to get it. What if he finds a way back to this earth again and we've built him the very tool he needs?"

"It's a risk we'll have to take," Jay insisted. "What else do you suggest, Iris?"

All eyes turned toward Iris. These people were her friends; she shouldn't have felt uncomfortable under the weight of all their gazes, but she felt her skin prickle even still. Perhaps it was the challenge she was receiving from Harry and Jay, or perhaps the desperate look from Caitlin that asked _Why are you holding us back?_

"I'm not sure," she finally conceded. "It just seems to me like we could find a way to incapacitate Zoom without stealing his speed. But I'm no engineer."

Caitlin hugged herself tighter and offered what might have been a reassuring smile under different circumstances. "We'll keep thinking of other options. For now, maybe it's best to start on something that might work."

"Okay." Iris couldn't afford to lose her head. Not now. Not when it was so easy to do so. "Yeah, okay. You're right. Of course you're right." She ran a hand through her hair. "Alright, I'm going to head home for a shower and some food. Then I'll keep researching."

"I'd say we have a plan," Harry said. "We'll get to work here."

Jay was the first to move, marching toward Harry with renewed purpose. His movement was seemingly the only spark needed for action. The two of them chattered determinedly, if not amiably, and STAR regained a little of its old life. Iris took that as her cue to head out.

Halfway into the hallway, Caitlin stopped her.

"Iris," she said. "Hey. I know this is frightening. But we'll make it through. And I'm…I'm here for you. If you need me."

Although the tension still dominated in Iris' body, Caitlin's earnestness softened the edges of her stress. "Thank you. I know you are. And I know we need to stay close, more than ever." She paused, marveling at Caitlin's apparent composure. "How do you do it? You're, like, a goddess of optimism."

"I don't know about that," Caitlin said with a light, but stunted, laugh. "But I know that there are good people in that room that are going to do everything in their power to make things right. I have faith in them, and I have faith in us. I have to believe that things will turn out okay in the end. I have to be optimistic in order to survive."

"Then please keep being optimistic," Iris said. "And hope that some of it rubs off on me."

Caitlin attempted another smile. Otherwise, she remained stiff as a board—so Iris was the one to initiate the hug. She wasn't sure why she was compelled to do it, just that she felt herself slipping away, needing something to anchor herself to this reality. If she and Caitlin really were the last two members of the core team, there was no doubt in her mind that they desperately needed each other.

Inexplicably, Iris found herself shaking. Caitlin hugged her tighter and didn't say a word.

"Sorry," Iris said when she finally pulled away, indicating the damp splotch on Caitlin's shoulder.

"Nothing to apologize for."

"Guys."

Iris scrubbed at her eyes before turning to face the newcomer—a breathless, wild-eyed Jesse.

"Sorry to interrupt. I need to talk to you both alone."

"What's going on?" Caitlin regained her cool, collected exterior and brushed her bangs to the side.

"Iris, you were right. We stand the best chance against Zoom with a speedster on our side," Jesse said, barely pausing for breath. She glanced over her shoulder, and at last it struck Iris: whatever she was about to say was not for Harry's ears. "From what I can tell, Jay's not going to cut it, even if we develop a speed serum. But we have a speedster here."

"Jesse," said Caitlin, who caught on an instant before Iris did. "You may have the metagene, but that doesn't make you a speedster."

"And we're not risking that speed serum on you," Iris said resolutely. "You don't know what it's been doing to Jay. It's not safe, and it's definitely not reliable."

"I'm not talking about the speed serum," Jesse said. She took a few steps closer. Her eyes burned with fervent excitement. "I'm talking about a jump-start to my system. Barry got struck by lightning, right? That's what gave him speed."

"No offense, but purposely getting you struck by lightning is potentially a worse idea than the speed serum," said Iris. "Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I'm not saying a literal lightning strike." Jesse's lip curled in perturbation. "Just some kind of jump-start. You know. To activate what's inside of me."

"I'm sorry, Jesse," Caitlin said. "It's too dangerous. The metagene isn't something that can just be switched on and off. If something goes wrong we could severely injure you, or worse—and that would defeat the whole purpose of this mission."

"The purpose of the mission has changed," Jesse said. "I'm safe now. That's done. Let me be a part of what happens next."

Caitlin's face tightened in that way it did when she was entering do-not-budge mode. Iris often associated it with finnicky medical patients: one of those looks from Caitlin and they would quietly recede into compliance. "If you die, then Barry and Cisco will have been trapped for nothing. Do you understand? We can't lose you, too, especially with something rash like you're proposing."

"That's not for you to decide." Jesse's eyes sparked with such ferocity that for a moment Iris wasn't entirely convinced she _wasn_ _'_ _t_ already a speedster. She'd seen the flicker of lightning in Barry's eyes too often. "I'm not some pawn in your war. My life is mine. Not anyone else's."

The words struck deeper than Iris would like to admit. She'd been unwittingly used in Eobard's game the past year, and even now she still felt herself too wrapped up in external stakes; the _Iris West-Allen_ of the future lingered behind closed eyelids some nights.

But, as much as she hated to admit it, it was easier to approach, to understand, from the outside.

"I'm really sorry, but I have to agree with Caitlin. Unless we find a reliable way to get you powers, we're not putting your life on the line." She watched, heartbroken, as Jesse's face fell, the young woman realizing that she was up against two unopposable forces. "Look at us, though. We've been fighting metahumans, even speedsters, without powers. You're in good company."

But Jesse wasn't buying it. She crossed her arms, and her sleeves tugged up just enough to reveal still-bruised wrists. "You're making a huge mistake. I can't believe you guys."

She stormed off before Iris or Caitlin could interject, though perhaps that was a good thing. In Iris' heart of hearts, she would never endanger Jesse's life—but hope, that wriggling nuisance, also bred doubt in her decision.

"I'll keep an eye on her," Caitlin said with a sigh. "Make sure she doesn't do anything rash. Are you going to be okay?"

"Fine," Iris said, still looking toward where Jesse had exited. "I'll be at my dad's to do more research on Zoom. Try to take a breath at some point. Fifteen minutes of rest could do you good."

"Sure. Call me if you find anything," said Caitlin. She grasped Iris' wrist one more time, her fingers cool on Iris' racing pulse. "It'll be okay."

"Yeah." Iris' heart sunk. It was the only word she could bring herself to say, but she wasn't entirely sure why she said it.

* * *

 **Thanks so much for reading! I'm pretty excited for the upcoming chapters; get hyped. Comments make my day!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	12. Chapter 12

The fire, for an instant, was worse than the lingering pain of the clawmarks. It was a rushing pain that Barry could hear, throbbing through his ears, funneling outward through his chest—a singularity where the emblem still clung to his suit. The emblem was a reminder that he had perhaps once been something useful, a reminder that he'd once had room to stretch his legs more than a few paces.

He emerged gasping, his heart stuttering in its attempt to find a normal rhythm, his senses swimming. Blearily, he looked around. He didn't remember Hunter arriving; he didn't remember what he had been doing before Hunter arrived; for a moment, he didn't even remember why his chest ached so badly.

"Get up," Hunter growled. He paused, kicked Barry in the gut. "Up, Flash."

"He can't," came a woman's voice. "Don't you see? Give him a chance to catch his breath."

Frost. Barry blinked, coming back to his senses. He'd been talking to Frost about—about—

"I said _get up._ " Barry gagged with a fresh kick, and the puncture point of the most recent speed extraction throbbed. Hunter still held the gun, but he had not yet injected himself. Something was off. Something was wrong.

"Or what?" Barry wheezed. It was a miracle Hunter heard him at all, with how breathy his voice had become. "Finally going to kill me?"

Suddenly Hunter was inches from him, claws curling into the fabric of his suit. "Don't think I won't."

It struck Barry, then, how much time had passed since Hunter's last visit. How much time he'd been lying in his cell, despondent. How long he'd been talking, uninterrupted, to Frost.

"You failed," he said. "Dante wasn't able to find Cisco. And you don't have the speed to go after him yourself." He allowed himself a low, dry laugh. "When are you going to give up?"

This earned him, as expected, another stab from the speed gun, this time just below his collarbone. The world blinked out of existence as the awful suctioning sensation came back in full force. Too quickly it was over, more quickly than ever, and that was the first indication that something was indeed amiss.

"Give it to me," Hunter's voice filtered through the haze of recovery. "Give me your speed."

"Can't find Cisco and…can't take my speed," Barry rasped. "Sounds like…"

But he didn't get to finish his sentence. The speed gun jammed into his ribs, and he jerked at the sensation of his insides being liquefied. Again, it was over quickly, and the world came back dulled and dark.

"You can't get it any more," Barry mumbled. "You…you…"

He should have sensed the impending violence before it happened, but perhaps he simply didn't care enough any more. A lack of concern for his own safety didn't, however, negate the breath-stealing agony as Hunter's claws plunged into his chest. He'd felt his before, a single claw to the gut, the rush of lifeblood when he'd already been so close to dying, broken spine and broken spirit. Now the four claws dug deep, somewhere above his heart, the same spot the fake Jay Garrick bore scars from a fake Zoom, all of it a lie—

This was no lie, not the suffering or the shock, the way Hunter's claw-like fingers curled like they were trying to pry the speed out of Barry's very muscles, searching, grasping, desperate—

Barry wailed.

"Stop!" Frost shrieked from someplace far away. "Zolomon, you bastard, stop!"

The fingers wrenched free. Released, Barry curled in on himself with a whimper and pressed a hand to the pulsing wounds. Hunger stood and faced Frost.

"What did you say to me?"

A long, unbearable pause. Barry bit the inside of his cheek, needing something else to distract himself, needing to get away from the searing beneath his skin.

Finally, quieter, Frost said, "Nothing."

"That's what I thought," said Hunter. His fingers flexed over the speed gun. He looked down disdainfully at Barry. "This will have to do for now."

Barry didn't see Hunter inject himself, or even leave. The world passed as a series of slide photographs, each transition marked by grainy darkness.

"Flash?" Frost said. The cool drawl was gone, replaced by an unnatural kind of urgency. "Hey, Flash. Stay with me, yeah? Don't you dare die. Come on, keep your eyes open."

"Why?" murmured Barry, who was already feeling the enticing droop of his eyelids. The closer he came to the darkness, the more the pain abated.

"Just stay awake," Frost said. "Tell me more about Detective West. And her father. You couldn't shut up about them before. Come on, talk to me."

"They're strong," Barry said. Blood dribbled out the corner of his mouth—he hadn't realized how hard he'd been biting the inside of his cheek. Blood was smeared on the concrete floor of the cell, too, though he wasn't sure how long it had been there. Instead of looking at it, he closed his eyes and tried to picture Joe's and Iris' faces. "They'll make it. They'll make it through this."

"Keep talking," Frost said. "Dammit, Barry, open your eyes!"

His eyelids were so heavy, he wanted to say. He couldn't lift them if he tried. He waited for Frost to scream at him, reprimand him for being weak, but he was so tired. Before he knew it, the undertow caught him and dragged him under. He still had not managed to conjure up the faces he'd been searching for.

* * *

"Do you believe that there exists absolute good and absolute evil?"

The question almost startled Caitlin. She and Jay had remained in silence for so long, silence being more comfortable than conversations about their current state, that it took her a minute to process his words. The question was so much louder than the hum and the heartbeat.

"In what? The world?"

"In people."

A moment of quiet like this was hard to come by in STAR Labs, even on the best of days. Without screaming or cheering or laughing post-mission, the building still literally hummed with life. It was more prominent down here in in the belly of the building, closer to the source of life. It had a soothing effect—or, at least, enough of a hypnotic rhythm to lull one's muscles into a false sense of security.

She kept one ear open to its familiarity, her other pressed to Jay's chest to hear his heartbeat. A rare moment of rest that they'd both reluctantly, exhaustedly, agreed to—although neither one of them had actually managed to sleep. She and Jay barely fit on the tiny couch in Cisco's workshop, but they managed. The closeness, the warmth, was not unwelcome. And, after all, Cisco was not there to tell them to _Stop snuggling on my couch, you heathens._

She curled up tighter against Jay, and he traced lines up and down her arm. She scrunched up her face as she answered: "Mm. I'm not sure. I think that people make good decisions and bad decisions all the time."

"I'm not talking about decisions," Jay said. "I'm talking about people. Absolute good in people. Absolute evil in people."

His voice dropped in pitch just enough to give Caitlin pause. "Is something wrong?" she asked. Jay was quiet as he stared up at the ceiling. Caitlin twisted, rolled, so she was out of the cradle of his arm and lying face to face atop his chest. "Hey, what's the matter? What's prompting this?"

"I just can't help but feel like I'm not good enough for you," Jay finally said. "You're so much better than I'll ever be."

"That's _not_ true," said Caitlin. "I don't know why you'd even say that. Is this about closing the breach again?" Jay said nothing. "Listen to me. I know I was upset about it, and I took it out on you, but that was unfair to you."

"I've done other bad things."

"Good people often do," Caitlin said. "Just like bad people sometimes do good things. So, no, I don't think people are either absolute good or absolute evil. I think everyone exists on more of a…spectrum. That's what makes us human, not gods or monsters."

"What about Killer Frost?"

Jay continued staring upward, so he couldn't see the way Caitlin's face froze. "What about her?"

Harry had told her all about her doppelganger, about her role in the Earth-2 mission. Her murderous tendencies, her shaky alliance, her betrayal.

"I mean, she's you, right? She's the opposite side of the Caitlin Snow coin. I haven't seen a better case of either/or. There's clearly no middle ground."

"I don't know," Caitlin said, with just a touch of creeping uncertainty. She studied the chiseled face in front of her, those dark eyes, but she couldn't discover any answers there. "Jay, I—"

"Say you're right," Jay interrupted. "What would it take for two people on opposite ends of the spectrum to make things work between them? Would they have to meet in the middle?"

"I…" Caitlin frowned. "I suppose, yeah. Meeting in the middle."

"The evil person would become a bit more good," Jay said, "and the good person would become a bit more evil."

"I don't know it works that way either. Or should." Jay's mouth tightened into a line, so Caitlin quickly amended, "But maybe." The hum of the lab threatened to overtake them again, but this time she knew it would leave them in discomfort, so she forced a smile. "I think what matters is that you make me feel _absolutely good_."

At long last, Jay broke his staring contest with the ceiling and simultaneously broke into a grin. "What an _absolutely corny_ thing to say."

"Hey, we were supposed to be relaxing," Caitlin teased. "Not perpetuating the doom and gloom."

Jay brushed a strand of hair from her face, laughing softly, but she could tell he was still preoccupied. He took one of her hands in his and held it to the center of his chest.

"What about my heart?" he said. "What do you think is in there?"

Beneath Caitlin's palm, she felt the slow, warm heartbeat that she'd listened to before. She removed her hand and instead prodded at the center of his chest with the point of her finger.

"What you're feeling is your right atrium contracting and filling your right ventricle with blood. Now that contracts and moves blood to the pulmonary arteries—"

Finally a genuine bark of laughter. Satisfied, Caitlin released the finger digging into his chest and leaned down to kiss him deep. She could still sense the laugh on his lips, and she wondered if he too could sense the way her own heart sped up in response.

After an indeterminate amount of time, they broke apart, and Caitlin rolled over to again settle against his side where she fit so perfectly. His thumb rubbed slow circles into her hip, and she allowed her eyes to drift closed. Maybe she could sleep, after all.

"You're impossible, Caitlin Snow, and I love you," he said. "You make me better every day."

"I love you, too," Caitlin responded, and even as she said it, she wondered vaguely if that was the first time she'd said those words since Ronnie. She sunk deeper into his electric warmth. "And I mean that."

* * *

If you'd asked Cisco a week ago, a day ago, even a few hours ago—he wouldn't have believed he'd be sitting in the wreckage of Nora Allen's home, working side by side with his brother on goggles that would give him the power to travel dimensions. _Refine your power_ , this Dante would say. Repeatedly, annoyingly. _You have the power. These are just to help you refine what you already have_.

 _I_ _'_ _ll have to have a chat with my actual brother about these pep talks when I get home_ , Cisco wanted to say. Any camaraderie he'd hoped to build after the Snart incident was forgotten; or, at least, Dante didn't seem willing to put in the effort to restore it. To be fair, maybe neither of them were. Maybe the adrenaline of a kidnapping, the fear of loss without actual loss, wasn't enough to repair something that had been broken long ago.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of something like hope, like promise, while he sat beside this brother who was not his brother.

"My Dante's never been good at all of this tech stuff," Cisco commented when Dante Two held up the vibe goggles to the light. "He once called me from college and had me talk him through setting up a printer."

Dante Two chuckled lightly. "I've never been good at the tech stuff either," he explained. "But I listened to my brother enough."

"He never did that either," Cisco said. "New printer two years later. Same phone conversation."

Another laugh. "I'm sorry you were never close," said Dante Two. "Family is one of the most important principles in my life."

"It is in mine, too," said Cisco. "I just found family elsewhere."

"There's nothing wrong with that, either," Dante Two said. "I admire your commitment to them. You'll save them."

Cisco reached for a screwdriver, focusing on the goggles, suddenly unable to meet Dante Two's eyes. "I'm afraid I won't be able to save all of them. I'm…I'm abandoning one here." He tightened the screw slowly, methodically. "You saw him, didn't you? You saw Barry?"

Dante Two's silence was measured, contemplative. Finally he said, "I won't lie, he didn't look good. I don't know what Zoom's been doing to him, but…" He exhaled sharply through his nose. At once, Cisco wished he hadn't asked. "To be honest, I was mostly focused on Killer Frost."

"She's still alive?"

"More than alive, I'd say. She's in much better shape than your friend, for whatever reason."

"I know the reason," Cisco said sourly. Of course Jay hadn't killed Killer Frost. She had Caitlin's face.

He slammed the screwdriver back on the table.

"Listen," said Dante Two. "I won't tell you to take your sweet time on your earth. Zoom obviously doesn't want to kill your friend, but it didn't look like he was trying too hard to keep him alive, either."

"Barry's strong." Cisco tried and failed to swallow the lump in his throat.

"So are you," Dante Two insisted. "I'm telling you, there is so much you don't even realize you can do."

"Right, so many things you know your criminal brother could do," said Cisco. A beat. "Sorry. Insensitive."

"I'm just saying—you have all the tools at your disposal to come back to this earth and take down Zoom," Dante Two said.

"Cutting off the Speed Force," Cisco said. "Yeah, absolutely, totally something I know how to do."

"You're not abandoning this earth," Dante Two said. "You're just regrouping so you can take it by storm."

A self-deprecating remark was on the tip of Cisco's tongue, but before he could get the words out, he was interrupted by Barry's voice behind him. "How's it going in here?"

Cisco started and whipped around. However, this Barry still wore glasses and a tweed jacket, not the red suit the voice invoked. Cisco didn't think he'd ever be used to it.

Nora and Iris Two also stood by expectantly, so Cisco forced himself to regain composure. "I think they're done," he said. "I think these can bring me home."

"Wonderful," said Nora. "You'd best be on your way, then. I would offer you one last meal, but I know how desperate the clock is."

"Not to mention, your kitchen is half-destroyed," said Iris Two. Cisco's eyes drifted to the bandage on her temple, and she smiled wanly. "I can tell you're about to ask how I am. I'm fine, Cisco. We'll all be fine."

"Zoom might still come looking for you," Cisco said. "Once he realizes Rupture's failed." He eyed Dante Two, half wondering if he should take the man back to Earth-1 with him. It was a silly idea, in reality—there was another Zoom on that earth, anyway.

"We can handle ourselves," said Iris Two. "You've got your own family to worry about."

It was true, Cisco knew, but he found himself sympathizing with Barry's insane need to protect a family that looked identical to his own. Barry had watched Joe's doppelganger die, and Cisco couldn't bear the thought of watching the doppelgangers of Barry and Iris die as well.

Nodding, Cisco picked up his goggles and took a few steps to an open part of the room. The rest took an involuntary step back—all but Nora, who regarded him with warm, trusting eyes.

"Thank you all so much. For everything," Cisco said. "I couldn't have done this without your help. I'll be back soon."

With that, he put on the goggles and clicked the mechanism on the side to power them up.

"Be brave, Cisco," said Nora, a parting line so heartfelt Cisco felt his eyes burn.

"And remember," added Dante Two, "power. It's there. You're capable."

"I guess we'll see," Cisco said, and raised his fist. This time, he could tell the goggles worked. Instantly, he felt that click, that attainable between-universe space sliding into focus. The breach blossomed with warmth and energy, the pull of a force much more sensory than visual. It drew Cisco forward; it drew him into darkness; it drew him home.

His feet left the Earth-2 living room floor, and the world turned blue.

* * *

 **Cisco's going home! But what will he find there...hm...**

 **Thanks for reading, and seriously, thank you to everyone who has been commenting. I'm so flattered each and every week by the depth and meaning that I find in your responses. I love you all. I could also particularly use some encouragement today - so please, if you have a chance, leave your thoughts below. Nothing cheers me up quite as well as that little email notification. xx  
**

 **I'm beyond excited for Sunday's chapter, y'all. See you then!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	13. Chapter 13

**I suppose we're officially at the halfway point, and kicking into gear for the next act for the story. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it :)  
**

 **A note: The show's treatment of Hunter Zolomon's origin story is pretty problematic in a few ways. For the sake of continuity, it's one of the things I did not change in this story, but I've tried not to focus on it. It will, however, be mentioned. Just wanted to point that out to cover my bases.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _Coffee poisoning_ , Iris thought blearily. _That_ _'_ _s how I'm going to die._ Not supervillains, no tragic revenge plots. Too much coffee. That was the good thing about having the newsroom mostly to herself: a private coffee pot, refillable on the company's dime. Jitters didn't seem like the right place to get her fix today, not with the glaring signs advertising "The Flash" drink, not with the mutterings of morning regulars idly wondering aloud where the red streak himself was.

Her hands shook as she took another gulp and clicked through more news reports. Technically, this _was_ work-related, insofar as she was studying newspaper articles. They were, of course, newspaper articles that had no immediate relevance to this earth, but it was investigative work all the same.

Many of her first leads had come up short. It wasn't impossible to find something relevant if you didn't know exactly what you were looking for, but it sure as hell made it more difficult. For all she could tell, Zoom had appeared out of thin air sometime after the particle accelerator explosion on Earth-2. He'd never been spotted with anybody, no acquaintances, no loose contacts, no teammates. Just disciples who were sometimes ordered to do his dirty work for him.

The one thing Iris could be certain of at this point based on her findings was that Zoom's kill list was long, violent, and varied. No matter how much good Jay did on Earth-2, the newspapers latched on to Zoom's conquests with even more fervor. For every "Flash Extinguishes Building Fire" there were two "Zoom Leaves Bloody Trail in Local Bank; No Money Taken." There was no rhyme or reason to his targets, to the number of victims, to the method of his murders.

With one hand, Iris tugged a sheet of note paper toward her and uncapped a pen with her teeth.

 _Ascension Cliffs train station,_ she wrote. _Blue ridge grotto. Saint Perez Mental Asylum._

She made the list going down, six locations total—the six places Jesse had remembered being held by Zoom.

She took another sip of coffee and opened a new tab.

 _Ascension Cliffs train station. December 21, 2013._

Harry's database contained dozens of newspaper archives, and Iris took her time with all of them—first typing in her initial search, then tracking a few days prior to the particle accelerator explosion and a few days after.

The train station yielded nothing; it appeared that it had been out of use for years. Her next search, the Central City's Lakeview library branch, yielded more results, but only because, as Iris discovered, it flooded as a result of the particle accelerator explosion. It must not have been reopened by the time Zoom held Jesse there.

The grotto elicited no meaningful results, and it was nearly lunchtime by the time Iris completed a research rabbit trail with the search "lumber warehouse" and began "Saint Perez Mental Asylum." Her phone buzzed.

 _Want me to bring lunch?_

 _Thanks, dad,_ she typed back. _Chinese?_

 _Anything for you. Be there in twenty._

She put the phone aside and went back to her computer. Results from a few papers had popped up on screen—not surprising, as she discovered that inmates being admitted apparently made for a good news day. She jotted down a few names, hopeful, her handwriting grown sloppy.

One headline, five days after the explosion, caught her eye. "Dark Speedster Ravages Central City Asylum, Dozens Dead." Frowning, she clicked through related links. "Following Speedster Attack, Saint Perez Remains Closed." "Zoom Strikes Again." "Zoom Attack Prompts Permanent Closure of Saint Perez Mental Asylum."

Iris' heart was thumping louder now, that telltale sign that she was onto something. The thrill of a lead. Another sip of coffee, a racing pulse as she circled back to the date of the explosion.

The papers, she'd found, were mostly preoccupied with the actual explosion, and rightly so. The pages were filled with speculation, accusations, stories of fallout. There wasn't room for puff pieces.

So it was buried deep in the paper, a two-inch column of a story, where she found the headline. The coffee cup was at her lips when she saw the picture.

"Serial Killer Hunter Zolomon Escapes Central City Asylum."

She stared dead into the eyes of Jay Garrick.

Her heart didn't flutter as it always did when she made a huge break. It stilled, halted, and dropped heavy as a stone.

 _Hunter Zolomon, charged with twenty-five counts of murder, escaped Saint Perez Mental Asylum yesterday during routine electroshock therapy. Hospital employees state that the procedure had begun when the STAR Labs particle accelerator explosion hit the facility, halting the proceedings and causing extensive damage. One employee, who wished to remain anonymous, stated,_ _"_ _One minute he was in the chair…but when I recovered from the explosion it was like he vanished."_

The coffee mug slipped from Iris' hand and shattered on the ground. Numb with panic, she fumbled for her phone and dialed Caitlin. The line rang once, twice, three times.

" _You_ _'_ _ve reached the voicemail of Caitlin Snow_ …"

"Dammit," Iris spat. She passed a hand over her mouth, fighting her body's need to hyperventilate. Jay Garrick's bearded face, his hollow eyes, stared at her from the computer monitor.

She hung up before the voicemail prompt was complete and instead opened up a text. Her thumbs flew over the keys, frantic, uncontrollable, and the message sent just as her throat closed up in terror.

 _GET AWAY FROM JAY. RIGHT NOW. JAY IS ZOOM_.

* * *

Jay hovered so close to Caitlin she could practically feel his breath on the back of her neck. The closeness was comforting, in a small way—it seemed that everyone had exploded outward into isolation following their revised plan. She hadn't seen Iris, Joe, or Jesse in hours, and Harry only for a handful of minutes. Even though she and Jay didn't talk much, feeling his presence in the room had a stabilizing effect.

"And that piece you're calibrating now?" he asked, peering over her shoulder at her work.

"Well, Harry did most of the mechanical work," she explained. "Now I just have to make sure this is dialed to the correct frequency. Enough to drain speed, not enough to kill. Granted, I'm basing these numbers off of what I've studied from the Speed Force in Barry's cells, but it should work for Zoom as well."

"And this?" Jay asked, holding up a small disk that lay close on the table.

"The device Harry secretly attached to Barry's emblem," Caitlin explained. "Retrofitted so we're able to shoot it at Zoom."

Even though she couldn't see his face, Caitlin sensed the shift. "This drained Barry's speed only when he ran. How are you going to get Zoom to run once you've hit him with it?"

Caitlin cocked her head. "I—uh, I think Harry's working on that."

She continued fiddling with the device. Jay didn't move.

"Hey," she said. "I'll be done with this in ten minutes or so. Would you mind pulling some of my old records on Barry's speed loss when Harry had the device on him?"

"Don't like me hovering over you while you work?" Jay teased, sidling away.

"Did you hear those words come out of my mouth?" Caitlin said. "I like having you close. You keep me grounded."

"As you do I," Jay said. "I'm lucky to have met you."

He slipped back one more time and planted a kiss on her temple. A tiny smile, genuine and unfettered, tugged up her lips.

"Ten minutes," she said. "If you keep distracting me like that it's going to take a lot longer."

"Who's distracting who?" Jay said. Caitlin ducked back down to her work with a shake of the head.

As Jay took up his station at the other end of the room, Caitlin twisted a screw on the prototype gun. Not for the first time, she lamented, how much better Cisco had been—how Cisco _was_ —at this sort of thing. Long gone were the days of being able to scare off villains with vacuum cleaners. They needed this to work, and they needed it to work _fast_. If it didn't, they were all dead.

She opened a drawer with the intention of grabbing another part. What she didn't anticipate was her fingers brushing against paper, an envelope: the letter Cisco had given her before going off to Earth-2.

Caitlin stilled. She'd forgotten about the letter, with so many other things fighting for her attention, and upon seeing it she felt as if the floor had disappeared beneath her. _Mom, Dad, and Dante_ , the front of the envelope read. She pulled the envelope from the drawer, traced Cisco's scrawl.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Caitlin responded automatically, realizing she'd turned statuesque, staring at the envelope. "I just found the letter Cisco left. I…I'll need to find a time to deliver it."

Jay said nothing in response. She swallowed the lump in her throat. The letter was supposed to tell Cisco's family what had happened to him—but what _had_ happened to him? What was she supposed to say to Dante, to Mr. and Mrs. Ramon, when she handed over the last piece of Cisco's life like he was a lost soldier in a war?

On the table, her phone vibrated. She'd left it face-down in order to focus, though the gesture was hardly necessary. Nobody was trying to reach her. The only people who would were close at hand.

However, grateful for the distraction, she set down the envelope and reached for the phone.

"Who is it?" Jay asked with mild curiosity.

"Iris," said Caitlin. She knew the woman had been at work, doing more research. Likely she needed more information from Harry, who hardly checked his own phone. Caitlin had been the conduit between the two of them more than a few times.

She unlocked her phone. The message that popped up froze her to the floor.

 _GET AWAY FROM JAY. RIGHT NOW. JAY IS ZOOM._

She was conscious of the fact that she'd stopped breathing, but she couldn't draw in oxygen if she'd tried. The letters, harsh and dark and demanding on her phone screen, reached out and gripped her around the throat.

No matter how long she stared at them, they didn't relent. They didn't rearrange themselves. They didn't disappear.

 _JAY IS ZOOM. JAY IS ZOOM_.

"What does Iris want?"

Caitlin whirled so violently her hip clashed against the corner of the table, knocking her screwdriver and a stack of books to the floor. Breath returned to her in a rush, and her heart accelerated to match it. Across the room, Jay's brow dimpled.

"Is everything okay?"

"She needs—she left her—purse—she left her purse here," Caitlin said. "She needs it, I mean."

"Can't she come get it?" Jay crossed his arms. "You said you'd be done with this device in ten minutes. Surely she can wait ten minutes."

Caitlin clutched the metal edge of the desk hard to stop her fingers from shaking. The lines of his face, his concerned blue-gray eyes, were the ones she knew well, so faithful that she knew _surely_ Iris was mistaken.

But she also trusted Iris, which was why that safe face was transforming before her eyes.

"It's urgent," she finally managed to say. Jay's frown was deepening by the second, so she focused on making her own eyes smaller, her smile bigger. "Don't worry, I'll be back to finish that in just—just a bit. By the time you finish pulling that data for me."

She flashed him the brightest grin she could muster. Then, with her phone sweaty in her palm, she speed-walked from the room.

Once she was in the hallway, she made a break for it.

Her heels click-click-clicked on the linoleum, far too loud, as she jogged down the corridors. _Too much noise_ , she thought wildly. _If this was a horror movie, you_ _'_ _d be giving away your position to the monsters._

But this was a horror movie, she realized. It was a horror in every sense of the word, and the monster had been in the light the entire time.

The fear flooding her brain made it impossible to think straight, but one primal instinct broke through, that screamed at her to take off her heels and run. She was just about to listen when she rounded a corner into the cortex and collided with a figure heading her way.

She covered her shriek with a hand and stumbled backward, but it was only Harry, carrying a stack of notes and looking thoroughly nonplussed by the intrusion.

"Snow?" he said. "What—"

"We have to get out of here," Caitlin said, grabbing him by the arm so violently his notes scattered to the floor. "Where's Jesse? We need to find her and get her out—"

"What's going on?" On cue, Jesse rounded the corner. She took in the scene, eyes flickering from the pile of notes on the ground to Caitlin's white-knuckled grip on Harry's arm. "I heard a commotion."

"We need to _leave_ ," Caitlin urged. "I just got a text from Iris. She thinks that Jay is Zoom."

"That's…impossible," Jesse said, again searching for answers between Caitlin's and Harry's faces. "Isn't it? How does she know?"

"I don't know, but we need to _move_ ," Caitlin emphasized. "I'll call her once we're outside, come on—"

But just then, something rumbled to life in front of them, a huge, hollow sound that raised the hairs on Caitlin's arms. A tremor passed beneath her feet.

An explosion of light, wind, and energy burst into being. The breach dominated the middle of the cortex, deepening into blue and black, swirling around nothing.

 _Run_ , she wanted to say. _He_ _'_ _s here_. But her mouth was too dry, her terror too absolute.

The figure that leapt from the breach was not clad in black leather, though. He was dark-haired and short, and when he removed his goggles, his eyes were kind and familiar.

Caitlin's knees nearly buckled. "Oh my God, Cisco."

Instead of collapsing, she managed to lurch forward and fling her arms around Cisco's neck. For a moment, the urgency of the situation evaporated, and she was enveloped in Cisco's warmth, his solidity, his energy. She felt his hands in her hair, pulling her close, for too short a time. It seemed she'd only just settled into him when he pulled back. He smiled at her regretfully.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, but we've got a big problem," he said, before Caitlin could speak. "I'm gonna make this quick. You might not believe me, but our buddy Jay is Zoom."

The words _thunked_ deep in Caitlin's chest, a final nail of certainty. Even in her panic, she'd still held out hope that Iris was wrong, or that she'd misunderstood the message. Now, that spark was fading from existence.

"We know," Caitlin said. "Iris just texted me. I think she found something in Harry's databases."

"Well, she's right, and we need to get somewhere safe," said Cisco. "Where is Iris?"

"She's at CCPN," Caitlin supplied. "We were just leaving. I was going to call her once we got outside."

But at that moment, her phone trilled once, twice. Again sensitive to the loud noise, Caitlin fished the phone from her pocket.

"It's Iris," she informed the others. With a breath of relief, she held the phone to her ear. "Iris. I got your message. We're on our way."

" _I advise you stay put_ ," Jay's voice came through the line. " _I_ _'_ _m giving you thirty minutes to finish the speed gun. Thirty minutes, or I shred Iris' heart._ "

* * *

 **Thanks for reading :)**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	14. Chapter 14

**We've got a real shaky understanding of science and technology going on here. Try not to stare directly at it.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

The footsteps were loud, fast in the hallway outside the lab. They crescendoed, faltered, staggered.

Joe burst into the room like a maelstrom, like he'd been split open at the chest and his fury was spilling out unchecked.

"Where the hell is my daughter?" he said. "Where the hell is she?"

There was a collective intake of breath in the room, as if everyone was simultaneously wondering who would be the one to speak. Joe's fear-blown eyes sought out each one of them in turn—even Cisco, whose return he regarded without even an inkling of surprise. Cisco, feeling uncomfortable, turned his own gaze downward.

Ever practical, Harry was the one to answer. "Zoom has her. He's given us an ultimatum. We'll get her back."

"Zoom has—" Joe bit off the end of the sentence, running the heel of his palm across his forehead. "I was in contact with her not _ten minutes_ —I get to her desk and her computer's destroyed—and you tell me you _know_ that Zoom's got her?"

"It's a long story," Harry said, "but we don't have the time to waste on it if we plan on saving her."

"We're working on the speed-draining gun," Caitlin offered softly, thinly, like her own power had been sucked away from her. "We have twenty more minutes to get this right before Zoom comes back."

"So you can stop him?" Joe asked.

"So we can give it to him," Cisco said grimly. "I think Jay wants it for himself. Giving it to him is the only way to save Iris, Joe."

"What does Jay have to do with any of this?" Joe said.

"Jesse," Harry said sharply. "Would you mind taking Joe into the other room and explaining our situation? We _need_ to keep working in here."

Stiffly, Jesse nodded. Joe looked fearfully Cisco and Caitlin's way, but in seeing that they were also returning to their work, he obediently followed Jesse out.

Once Joe's chaotic energy was out of the room, Cisco turned uncomfortably back to the piece of the gun he was working on. He knew they should have called Joe first, but, then again, a half-hour ultimatum drowned out any other considerations.

"So, you were saying you talked to Dante's doppelganger," Caitlin said quietly. Her part of the work was complete, but she didn't seem keen on leaving her perch on the stool by Cisco. Her posture had grown small fearful, defeated—Cisco recognized it from the days following the singularity incident.

"Yeah," he responded, equally quiet. When Harry was in one of his moods, he'd learned to keep his voice down. "Zoom sent him to kill me, but we worked it out. You know, brother-to-brother."

"He beat you up, didn't he?" Caitlin said, not unkindly. Cisco winced, realizing his face still resembled roadkill.

"A little bit, yeah," he said. "But then we moved past our differences and he helped me fix up my goggles in order to come home and warn all of you." He swallowed. "Guess I was too late."

"I still can't believe you met Barry's mom," Caitlin said. "Her doppelganger, at least."

"Would you believe me if I told you it wasn't as weird as meeting your doppelganger?"

"Harry told me about her," Caitlin said. "He filled me in on…the rest." She went silent. Cisco chose not to look at her, afraid of what he'd see. Instead, he ran a thumb over the cylinder that would gather the Speed Force, attached to the top of the speed gun. "I just…I can't believe it was him, this whole time. The man who killed all those people on Earth-2, who broke Barry's back, who held Jesse hostage…he was right in front of me and I didn't even realize it."

"There was no way to know," Cisco said firmly. "He was playing a part. And he Shatner'ed the hell out of it. 110% effort, with…better acting."

"You don't understand," Caitlin said. "While you were gone, I played right into his trap. I worked on the speed-draining gun because he asked me to. I worked on a speed-enhancing serum for him _because he asked me to_. He probably took it in order to get Iris. And he's going to take it to get back to Earth-2."

"This is not on you," Cisco insisted. "Love makes us do crazy things. There's no way you could have seen this coming. Even I was blindsided by the guy, and I generally have a good sense for murdery speedsters." He eyed Caitlin, whose lips were now quivering almost imperceptibly. "And besides, there have apparently been two of him running around for days. How were you supposed to know that was possible?"

"If we give him this, he'll take Barry's speed for good," Caitlin said, "and then he won't need Barry anymore. Once he has speed, he won't need any of us anymore."

"If we don't give it to him, he'll kill Iris," Cisco reminded her, unnecessarily.

"I know," Caitlin said, burying her face in her hands. "I'm just trying to make sense of all this. I'm trying to find a third option, and I can't see one."

"I think I can," Cisco said. _You have the power to cut off speedsters from the Speed Force,_ the voice of his not-brother reminded him _._

Caitlin looked at him quizzically, but before she could ask him to elaborate, Harry said, "It's done."

"That was fast." Cisco quirked an eyebrow.

"Pressing matters, pressing work," said Harry seriously. "I trust your piece is functional?"

"Should be more than functional," Cisco said. "Just improved on your rudimentary model."

"Rudimentary?"

"You heard what I said."

"Guys." Jesse entered the room again with Joe in tow, arms crossed. "It's time. Two minutes until Zoom arrives."

Beside Cisco, Caitlin stiffened. Awash with nausea, he nodded. "Cortex." As everyone filed out, Cisco took Caitlin by the arm. "Cait. Maybe it would be better if you stayed here. You're still in shock. You don't have to go up there, you know."

"I do," Caitlin said simply. "And I will."

With one minute remaining, everyone stood in the cortex, sheep awaiting a wolf. Harry snapped together the two pieces of the speed draining gun and held it loosely by his side, though Cisco knew he'd never use it with Iris' life at stake. They'd abandoned all pretenses of modifying the gun for offensive purposes—as Harry had pointed out, there was no way to drain speed without forcing the target to run. And if Zoom ran, they would all be dead in an instant, long before the speed was removed.

What they needed was an instant way to remove speed.

Cisco balled up his fists and glanced at the clock. The thirty minutes was up. Zoom—Jay—did not seem like the type to be late.

"Keep a cool head, everyone," Harry said. "We make our exchange quietly, regroup afterward. Make a new plan. Got it? Joe?" Harry side-eyed Joe, who was clutching the tranq gun like it was Jay's neck.

"Keeping cool," he said. "Let's just do this and get it over with."

They lapsed into quiet, unwilling to be caught off guard by Jay. But it still came as a shock, as it always did with speedsters, when a clash of lightning rocked the room and Zoom appeared, seemingly out of thin air. At his side was Iris, looking terrified but still, somehow, defiant. She stood remarkably steady beside the dark speedster, whose clawed hands curled possessively around her upper arm.

"I trust you have what I came for," he growled.

"No need for masks here," Harry said. "We know who you are, Garrick. Let Iris go first."

"His name's not Jay Garrick," Iris said coldly. "His real name is Hunter Zolomon. He's been using Jay Garrick as a front."

"Hunter Zolomon," said Jesse. "That name is familiar. He's…" The realization dawned on her face. The lines on her forehead tightened. "He's a serial killer. Why does that _not_ surprise me?"

Roughly, Zoom shoved Iris forward. She stumbled, but Caitlin caught her around the middle and steadied her.

"Are you hurt?" Caitlin asked. Iris shook her head. "You should take one of the vans. Get to safety."

"Not a chance." Setting her mouth in a hard line, she took a stand between Caitlin and Cisco. Unwittingly, Cisco thought again of Earth-2 Iris—still in the crosshairs of that Earth's Zoom.

Across the room, Zoom reached up and slowly peeled off the mask. Sure enough, beneath the black leather, Jay's face emerged, features contorted into smugness. Even though Cisco had known Zoom's identity for a few days, it still felt wrong, seeing that face above that suit.

"The gun, Wells," he said calmly: the sure-headedness of a man who knew he was in control of a room.

Harry hesitated, hands on the speed gun. "So this was your plan all along, huh?"

"Ever since the skies parted and showed me another world. With another speedster," Jay said patiently, humoring them. "Once I saw Barry Allen, I came here, figured out what I had to do."

"You weren't planning on the breach closing, though," Cisco said. "Were you? You created a time remnant here for a reason."

"A backup plan," Jay said. "One way to motivate Barry to go faster: have his old pal Jay be murdered in front of his eyes by the evil Zoom. But my future self never arrived."

"You were going to die for all of this?" Joe asked.

"A worthy cause," Jay said. "My future self is quite convincing. But something must have kept him on Earth-2. So I had to improvise in order to get home."

"Why the charade?" Joe said. "Running around dressed like the Flash?"

"To give people hope, detective." Jay's eyes slid to Joe. "So I could rip it away from them. It's so fun pretending to be a hero."

"You are no hero," Caitlin spat. "You're nothing but a monster."

Jay's attention snapped to Caitlin as though by a magnetic force. His expression, suddenly much darker than it had been, was indiscernible. Regardless, Cisco didn't like it; he took a step forward to speak, but Harry beat him to the punch.

"Let's just do this," he said. "This thing is how I stole the Flash's speed the first time. Now all he needs to do is run, and his Speed Force will transfer into this vial."

"Perfect," said Jay. "You're giving me exactly what I asked for. A wise choice."

He still had not regained the smug expression, but his words were enough to turn Cisco's stomach. This was it. This was game over. They'd lost. Barry was going to lose his speed, and then there would be nothing stopping Zoom from coming back and killing everyone in Central City.

Jay took the speed gun from Harry and looked it over once. "If this doesn't work, I will come back for you and your daughter."

"I know," Harry said.

"Well, I'd best be off before this Velocity serum wears off; a shame you never managed to make a good one, Caitlin," said Jay. "But I won't need it much longer. I'll see you all very soon, I'm sure."

He gripped the speed gun. He tensed, the tell-tale flicker-blue of speed gathering behind his eyes.

Cisco reacted on instinct, out of desperation. He threw out his hands and, as in his fight with Dante Two, felt the adrenaline power through his veins as something more substantial. The energy rushed toward Jay and collided square with his chest emblem.

This time, Cisco held the blast, keeping the stream of energy heavy and continuous. He felt, rather than saw, Jay pushed backward. In fact, all of his normal senses were enveloped in a deeper sensory experience, that of the vibrations in his bones, the power bursting from his fingertips, the way he connected to every twang of sinew and speed in the man he targeted.

The longer he held the blast, pinning Jay in place, the more he felt that peculiar zing traveling back to him. A ricochet factor, a twinge of electric shock that he soon identified as pure speed. The strings he was plucking at the other end of the energy stream was _speed_. It was all there, at his fingertips. As soon as he realized it, he brushed against them and tugged experimentally.

The action was short lived. The moment he felt the electricity curling back toward him, he felt a pull of resistance that was far stronger than anything he could muster. Taken off guard, his concentration wavered. He blinked, dropped the energy pulse. It was just enough for Jay to surge forward, crossing the room in half a second and grabbing Cisco around the throat.

It was a familiar experience, and the irony was not lost on Cisco: the last time he'd tried to stop Jay, he'd also ended up pinned up against a wall by his throat. It had been a different Jay, a different Earth, but having one's windpipe crushed was a multi-versal sensation.

He choked, scrabbled for purchase. His feet could not reach the floor, and his fingernails met only uncompromising leather.

"Bad decision," Cisco," Jay said. Cisco wheezed, and the fingers tightened. Blood pounded in his ears, overwhelmingly loud, drowning out everything else, drowning him.

"Jay, stop!" Caitlin's shrill cry served as a lifeline, a tether pulling Cisco back to the living world. He glanced over Jay's shoulder at her. Face stark with fear, she held out her hands in a placating manner, as though Jay were a wild stallion rearing to kick. "Please."

The hand did not relent. Despite his best efforts, Cisco felt himself slipping. Stars erupted in his periphery.

Still, Caitlin persisted. "If anything you ever said to me was true, or anything we ever shared was real, then please just let him go. Please." She took one hesitant step forward. "I know some piece of you did care for me, so if you have any humanity left, then please, let him go."

Vaguely, Cisco heard a gun cock. It wouldn't matter, he thought. Jay could snap his neck and dismantle the gun in mere seconds. None of the threats mattered. Their safeguards were umbrellas against a monsoon.

But then, miraculously, Cisco felt himself falling. His body hit the floor and his airway opened up, first as a stutter and then as a rush. He coughed, lungs desperate for oxygen, and for a few instants the world was so pitch-dark he thought he might actually succumb to it.

As he pressed a hand to his chest, confirming a heartbeat, he couldn't quite believe that he was still alive. The ground was cold, but solid, beneath him, and his blood again sang in his ears. Caitlin's pleas had, unbelievably, worked.

" _Caitlin_!"

It was only Iris' cry that drew Cisco's attention back upward. It was only then that he realized that Jay was gone. And with him, Caitlin.

* * *

 **If you look closely, you can see canon peering through its prison bars!**

 **Thanks as always for reading, and please consider leaving a comment on your way out.**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	15. Chapter 15

Iris watched Cisco attentively as he vibed, her muscles taut with nerves. She wished, more than anything, that she could see with him. Anything she saw would be better than wondering, speculating, imagining.

Cisco emerged from the vibe with a long inhale. He paused that way for a time, blinking dazedly, before striding to the central console of the cortex and slamming Jay's helmet down. The seventy of the action, the deafening _clang_ of metal, made Iris flinch.

"I hate this thing," Cisco said. "I want to melt it down and make something really stupid with it. A little statue of a middle finger."

"Cisco," Iris interrupted. They all dealt with their emotions in different ways, but she couldn't stomach jokes now, not even bitter ones. "Did you see anything in your vibe?"

Cisco leaned heavily on the railing of the central console and pinched the bridge of his nose. By the looks of his black and blue face, he was concussed, not to mention recently choked out by an evil speedster. It was easy to understand why he wouldn't be firing on all cylinders, yet here he was, standing.

"I could only catch bits and pieces," he said. "Caitlin's okay. She's scared, but okay."

"Thank God," Iris breathed. While she didn't see the point of Jay killing her friend, she'd still feared the worst.

"Barry?" Joe asked.

"Alive." Cisco's mouth tightened. _For now_.

"Okay, we need a new game plan, before Jay…Hunter…whoever decides to use that speed gun on him," said Joe, evidently thinking the same thing.

"And before one of those lunatics hurts Caitlin," Cisco added.

Joe shook his head. "I still can't wrap my head around the fact that there's two of them. You're going to have to explain this whole time remnant thing to me again later."

"Later," Iris agreed. "Right now we need to focus on getting Caitlin back."

"No," said Harry. "Until we have a way to definitively stop Zoom, we've got nothing on our side. That's our priority. That's how we win. The hunt only begins after that."

"You're right," Cisco said regretfully. "I'm going to have a literal aneurysm if I don't close my eyes for a minute, but afterward I'm all ears."

"Regroup later," Joe agreed. He threw an arm around Iris' shoulders, a comforting weight. "And be thankful for what we have."

The knot that had been twisting in Iris' gut for hours now tightened. With muttered assents, the group again dispersed and Joe spun Iris to face him.

"How are you doing, baby girl?"

"Fine," Iris lied. Her dad was depending on her cool, collected exterior, she knew. A smile would be too false, but she managed to keep her gaze steady, at least. "Tired."

"Fine and tired." Joe shook his head. "Pretty mild words for someone who was just held hostage."

"Not like it hasn't happened before," Iris said drily. "And it was only half an hour."

 _Only_ implied a quick passage of time. _Only_ was reductive. _Only_ implied that half an hour lasted the same amount of time in every circumstance.

"Hell of a half hour," said Joe. "Showing up to your work, finding your things destroyed…my mind didn't go to great places."

Iris squeezed his arm. "Sorry I scared you."

"It's not you who scared me," Joe reasoned. "It's him. Them."

Iris couldn't think of a response, a comfort, to this, so she settled on, "I know."

"Anyway, I should let you rest, since you're 'fine' and 'tired.'" He put the words in air quotes. "Probably best not to leave STAR Labs anymore, yeah? Safety in numbers."

"That's what you always taught me," said Iris.

"But just in case." Joe pressed a gun into her hands. Again, a familiar move, and one she was well acquainted with. But instead of giving her the power and groundedness it usually afforded, the gun felt to her plasticky, fake, hollow. It lacked the weight, literally and figuratively, it had once carried.

"Thanks, Dad," she said automatically, tucking the toy gun into her jacket. "Keep in touch."

When Joe brushed past her, Iris found herself still staring, listlessly, at the spot he'd stood. She shivered, tugged her jacket tighter. It was only when Jesse bounced up in front of her that she took notice of the outside world again.

"Iris," the young woman said. "I need to talk to you."

Iris blinked heavily. "About?"

"About the cosmic treadmill." Iris had to give it to her, Jesse always got straight to the point. "We don't have other options at this point. We need to activate my powers."

"Jesse, Caitlin said—"

"Caitlin said there was a chance it could work," Jesse insisted.

"A chance is not worth your life."

"You keep saying that," Jesse said. "And yet everyone else here has risked their lives for slimmer chances. I was chained up for months, and you're going to patronize me for wanting some autonomy? After you were just used as a bargaining chip?"

Iris paused at this. It was easy to forget how young Jesse was—the shadows under her eyes, the tightness around her mouth, aged her. Iris sighed.

"You're right," she said. "Of course, you're right. But I don't have the expertise to help you with this. We're going to need your dad's help."

Jesse shook her head vigorously, but her expression brightened at Iris' agreement. "We're still not telling my dad—but he's not the only one who can help."

Three minutes later, Cisco rubbed at his eyes where he lay on the couch in his workshop, his words punctuated by a groan.

"We're not telling Harry? Don't you think we have enough people out for our blood at the present moment?"

"He'll be so grateful for a solution to our problem that he won't care," Jesse said dismissively.

"And if this doesn't turn out to be a solution?"

"Then I won't be around to feel his wrath anyway." Jesse beamed, prompting Cisco to shoot Iris an imploring look.

"She wants to try it," Iris said. "And right now I've got to say it's our best option."

"And I'm your only option for actually making it work," Cisco confirmed. Iris offered him a hesitant smile. He stared at her simpering expression unflinchingly for a few moments, then rubbed at his temples. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. The cosmic treadmill could work. Replicate what we did to Barry the first time he lost his powers to Farooq. Might even be able to throw in a free pep talk, too."

Jesse's energy was infectious. "I'll meet you down there," she said, and she took off with such speed it was hard to believe she didn't have powers already. Iris' gaze lingered on the doorway. Her vision went slightly out of focus, fuzzy, until Cisco cleared his throat.

"You with us?"

"Hm?"

"I asked if you were okay," Cisco said. "You're looking a little distant."

"Sure," Iris said. She forced herself to look back at Cisco. He blinked heavily, his eyes bloodshot. "Let's just get this over with."

"Agreed," said Cisco. "Meet you down there. No rest for the wicked, eh?"

"Mm." When Iris offered no further comment, Cisco levered himself off the couch and shuffled toward the door.

For a moment, Iris savored being alone in the workshop, in the quiet. She stayed facing the couch with feet planted and eyelids drooping. Then she closed her eyes and took a slow, deliberate breath.

Behind her eyelids, she still saw the flickering blue lights. She felt the shackle around her wrist. She heard the growling voice behind that black mask. _Only_ thirty minutes, and she still felt the sickening, metallic fear creeping up her throat.

Iris opened her eyes, took another steadying breath, and followed Cisco downstairs.

* * *

Two hands dragged Barry upright, but his flicker back to consciousness was too insubstantial to allow him to care much about the proceedings. Another beating, another speed draw—it was all old news. Sticky dried blood coated the skin beneath his suit, tugging uncomfortably at even the most minor cuts. Everything throbbed with pain: skin, bones, blood. Even his hunger pangs had evolved into a deep ache.

He hadn't realized just how cold his cell was, still glazed over with ice, until he was transported out of it. The air in the rest of Zoom's lair was far from balmy, but he sucked in the warmth greedily. His breaths felt less thin out here, less like he was being throttled. He focused on the sensation of just _breathing_ , in and out, in and out. A tangible, comforting thing.

Then a hand took him by the front of the shirt and pressed down hard on his emblem. Barry blinked away grogginess to see Hunter clicking a metal disc into place on the front of his suit. The device was familiar, but Barry could not immediately place it.

"Run." Hunter's command startled Barry. The single syllable snapped at the air like a lightning strike, imbued with power and fire and sharpness.

Barry struggled with speech, still feeling as though he'd been dragged from a deep dream, and finally settled on, "What?"

"You heard what I said," said Hunter. He sunk into a mocking, sardonic tone. "Run, Barry, run."

Barry rolled to his good side and, for the first time, registered that the surface he was lying on was not the hard concrete of his cell. It had a rubbery quality to it, and it was grooved. He rolled further, attempted to rise to his elbows.

It was a treadmill. Not only that, it was a modified treadmill, retrofitted just like the one on his earth. A cosmic treadmill, they'd taken to calling it. _What, is it going to launch me to space?_ Barry had once joked. _If it does, I expect you to plant a flag on Pluto for me_ , Cisco had returned. This treadmill had been moved inside of Jesse's old cell—Hunter was clearly confident that even if Barry had the wherewithal to try and run away, he was too weak now to phase through bars.

"Up to your standards?" Hunter said. "Good enough for our valiant hero? It should be; I got a lot of the specs from Cisco. I had some time to do a little snooping on your Earth, back when you trusted me."

"Why?"

Evidently Hunter understood the intent of the question, because he said, "You really don't recognize that funny little thing on your chest? Maybe the other piece will _jog_ your memory." He hefted a device. For a moment, Barry didn't find anything remarkable about it; it looked almost exactly like the speed gun Hunter had been using on him daily. But it was larger, bulkier, with more components.

"Harry's," Barry rasped.

"The very same that took a measly 2% of your speed," Hunter affirmed. "This time, I intend to take the other 98%. So run, Barry. There's no time to waste."

"Or what?'"

"Or I kill one of them." Hunter motioned at the cells of Frost and the masked man, lazily, like it was an afterthought. "I'll even let you choose which one dies if you don't comply."

Barry had been here long enough to know that there was no point in arguing. Hunter had shown little mercy in the past; killing wasn't even worth a blink to him. Realizing this, Barry laboriously began the process of getting to his feet.

He hadn't even made the effort to get to his knees in quite some time—how long, he couldn't be sure, but enough to make those stiffened muscles protest. He alternated between feeling weightless and insubstantial and feeling unnaturally heavy, like he couldn't carry his own weight. His stomach cramped something awful, forcing him to double over.

Once on his hands and knees, he trembled. First minutely, surface tremors. Then, escalated, a series of quakes that jellied his bones and rendered him powerless. Faint, Barry felt his arms buckle, and he crumpled back to the floor of the treadmill.

"No games, Flash," Hunter said. "Get up. Just a little run. Then it's all over. All the pain, all the fear, all of it."

"I…can't," Barry said, though he was slipping back down into the tunnel, a place where words and thoughts didn't make sense. He tried to get ahold of his body, willed it to move, but a second attempt to rise culminated in another collapse. Dizziness overtook him, muzzled him.

"I said _up_!"

Hunter grabbed him under the arms and hauled him upright. A yell wrenched itself from Barry's throat, but he didn't have the energy to sustain it. His hands found the steadying bars of the treadmill, but his grip failed almost instantly—not even the support of the object could keep him upright. Again, he found himself on the floor, curling in on himself, while Hunter gripped him by his cowl in an attempt to drag him upright.

"I will kill them," Hunter was saying, shaking Barry like a doll. "I'll do it. Don't think I won't."

Barry knew it. He tried a third time to rise, but his body was no longer in his control. His consciousness was fast spiraling away, detaching itself from the broken body on the treadmill.

"Don't you see he can't?" snapped Killer Frost. "Killing us isn't going to make a difference. He hasn't had anything to eat in days, barely anything to drink, you've beaten him within an inch of his life, and you've been draining him of his speed. He can't even stand. Lay off of him."

Hunter froze. Barry stilled his breath, recognizing that dangerous gathering of muscle. It meant he was about to spring.

This time, unexpectedly, it was not a physical reaction. Slowly, almost calmly, Hunter said, "You know what I think? I think maybe you two have become a bit too buddy-buddy."

He flashed, and Frost was gone from her cell. It was as though she'd never been there at all; the air shimmered with lightning-heat, but otherwise the cell was as empty as the first time Barry had seen it. Seconds later, the masked man was also gone. Before he knew it, Barry was back in his own cell, and the chill instantly stuck on his skin.

"I thought it might be prudent to separate you," Hunter explained. "Don't want you getting any big ideas."

"You don't need to keep her here," Barry said. "There's no point."

Hunter, on the other side of the glass, cocked his head. "You're quite right about that. And you don't even know my trump card."

"Trump card?"

"It was my obedient time remnant who just arrived back on this earth, with Wells' speed device in tow," said Hunter. "And that's not all he brought. Turns out he couldn't conquer the world without his girlfriend."

"Caitlin," Barry said hoarsely.

"I'll give you some time to think about that," Hunter said. "Some time to mull over your decision not to run for me. How about that?"

In a blink, before Barry could respond, he was gone.

A pit opened up in Barry's stomach, larger than ever. He couldn't' fathom what had transpired on Earth-1 to cause Jay to sacrifice his identity and return back, but he also didn't think he wanted to. Whatever had happened couldn't have been good, if Caitlin was involved, kidnapped. Now he'd put Frost in danger, as well, and his remaining friends back on Earth-1 were likely dead.

Then again, if they'd been killed, Hunter probably would have rubbed it in his face. The thought wasn't comforting, though, when the screaming started later. Far off down one of the corridors, it was impossible to distinguish if it was Caitlin's or Frost's. Half between sleeping and waking, Barry shut his eyes and tried to block it out. In his current state, it wasn't hard to pass into the void of unconsciousness, but the screaming followed him there and lingered even when the room went silent.

* * *

 **Thanks so much for reading! Comments welcome!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	16. Chapter 16

**Please note that from here on out, the Zoom who has been on Earth-2 with Barry will be referred to as Hunter, and the Zoom who has been on Earth-1 will be referred to as Jay.**

 **Also, I'm being very liberal with the amount of space in his lair. It is a train station, after all, so…it's bigger than it looks in the show.**

 **Finally, sketchy science-I realize that the "breaking your thumbs to get out of handcuffs" concept is dubious at best, but it adds so much dramatic value that the concept is mentioned here.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Caitlin hissed, clenching her teeth to keep from making further noise. The ragged metal of her restraints dug into her skin as she tugged harder, _harder_ against them. Her hand budged an inch, two inches, before stopping short. She drew in a long breath through her nose, squeezed her eyes shut, and pulled.

When the agony of digging into her own skin became blinding, she finally relaxed with a squeak of pain. The shackles were too tight, too unyielding. Blood trickled down her arms from each wrist, the sting of the wounds slicing into all rational thought for a few moments.

It had taken her a while to even work up the courage to try getting out of her restraints. Her abduction had come as a rush of confusion—one minute she'd been begging for Cisco's life, the next she'd been dumped on a cold hospital bed, both wrists secured to the bedframe by a long chain. Jay had disappeared without a word to her, but she'd been so afraid of his returning that she'd hardly moved a muscle.

When it became clear that her kidnapper wasn't clamoring to see her, she'd begun the arduous process of trying to break free of her bonds.

Clearly, judging by the blood now streaking her forearms, escape options were far more limited than previously hoped for.

She could dislocate her thumbs, she reasoned. She knew exactly where to apply pressure to cause the _pop_ , and that might give her enough leeway to get through the cuffs.

But, on second thought, where would she go once she was free, with no way to get home and two swollen hands for her troubles?

That she was on Earth-2 she had no doubt. And while she had a fairly high pain tolerance, the thought of breaking her own fingers for minimal to no success was no a pleasant one.

She didn't have to contemplate that thought long, however; just as she was beginning to feel the blood grow sticky on her arms, the hairs on the back of her neck lifted. The sensation came an instant before Zoom flashed into view, the force of his arrival blowing her hair back from her face. She flinched backward, involuntarily, as he approached and dropped a paper bag at her feet.

"Eat," he commanded.

The bag sported a bright red and yellow logo reading "Big Belly Burger," but she could identify the contents even if the bag hadn't been labeled. Even if she hadn't been starving, the burger-and-fries aroma would have made her salivate.

But it was still the principle of the thing. Pointedly, without saying a word, she picked up the bag and tossed it across the floor.

 _Stupid move_ , she mentally berated herself. _You need to keep up your strength. Why waste a perfectly good meal?_

Still, she never took her eyes off of Zoom's expressionless black mask: an act of defiance she hoped looked more fearless than she felt.

"Where's Barry?" she said. "I want to see Barry."

Zoom remained stock still as well, black eyes flickering. "You should not have tried to escape," he said instead of answering. His apparent indifference toward Caitlin's defiance threw her, but she clenched her fists.

"If you want to speak to me, then take off that mask. Which one am I speaking to?"

Zoom paused, one clawed finger twitching. Then, with a languidness unbefitting of a speedster, he peeled away the mask.

"There," he said. "Does this make you feel better?"

A long, shriveled scar on the side of his face twisted in conjunction with his smirk. It was exactly as Cisco had described it to her, a definite burn wound.

"Nothing you could ever do would make me feel better," she said, feeling her own face harden in disgust.

Hunter's eyes darkened. "Would you feel better if your dear old Jay's face was under the mask?"

"Don't be asinine," Caitlin spat. "You're both the same horrible, manipulative, wretched ba—"

"Language, Caitlin," Hunter said. "What would your friends think if they heard you speaking like that?"

"If my friends were here, they would kick your ass." It was, admittedly, not something she would normally say, but desperation was making her bold.

Hunter just chuckled. "You still believe that, after what you've seen?"

"I believe that you're a fraud," she challenged. "You think you're a god, but all your power is artificial. I hope all those speed serums do kill you."

"You don't." Hunter stated it like it was hard fact. He took a few unhurried steps forward, and Caitlin unfolded her legs out from under her, ready to spring if necessary. Not like she could run _away_ , but—

"You don't want to kill me," said Hunter, continuing forward. "Just like I don't want to kill you. I've never wanted to kill you. I've never wanted to _hurt_ you."

"I can't say the same," Caitlin said coldly. By this point, Hunter was within a foot of her, and his face was softening with something like twisted compassion.

"Oh, Caitlin," he said. "Don't do this. I don't want to play games with you anymore. Don't fool yourself into thinking we're enemies."

He leaned down close, close enough that Caitlin could see the filaments in his eyes and feel his speedster-warmth leaking toward her.

Her shackles were solid, thick, heavy metal. They made a satisfying _clang_ as they connected with the side of his face.

Hunter reeled, but only for a moment. Caitlin's hands hadn't even dropped before they were caught in Hunter's grip. Caitlin wrenched free, drawing back to strike again, but Hunter was faster. The shackles slid down her arms just enough to expose her wrists; Hunter grabbed them mid-blow, his strength like a wall of steel.

"You _dare_?" he said, hands tightening around her wrists with each word. The pressure on her bleeding, chafing skin sent shooting pain down her arms. Her attack had left a wide, bleeding welt on Hunter's cheekbone, but the fury in his eyes erased all sense of victory.

"L-leave me alone." Fear unsteadied Caitlin's voice, her resolve, and pain amplified the feeling. "P-please leave me and my friends alone, you _monster_ —"

"Don't call me that," Hunter growled. Tighter, tighter, and now Caitlin was lightheaded, like it was her throat he was squeezing and not her wrists. "My _time remnant_ might want you here and alive, but if you're more trouble than you're worth…"

His claws dug in. She felt the pop of joints in her wrists. Finally, involuntarily, she shrieked.

A few seconds: that was all the time it took between her scream and the jarring release of pressure. Caitlin fell forward, gasping, and heard the _thud_ of a body connecting with cement. When she looked up, Hunter lay sprawled on the floor, face brick-red, while Jay stood over him with a complexion to match.

"She is my guest," Jay said in a low, dangerous voice. "You hurt her, you answer to me."

Hunter sprang up and stood before Jay with speed so intense Caitlin felt the crackle of heat where she sat.

"Don't forget who you're made from, _Hunter_ ," he said, pointedly swiping the blood from his cheek.

Jay's face twitched, but he stood his ground. Hunter tilted his chin, curled his lip, then took off in a streak of light.

Caitlin's chains clinked as she trembled. Jay noticed this and came closer, frowning when he saw the blood trickling down her arms.

"I'm so sorry, Cait…"

"Don't call me that," Caitlin said. "And don't touch me," she added, pulling back violently when he reached out to examine her torn skin.

"I never thought he would hurt you," Jay said, kneeling down at her bedside. "Trust me, he won't, ever again. And I would never dream of harming you."

"Then let me go," Caitlin said. With Jay's once-comforting presence so close to her, her lungs seemed to fill with fluid. It wasn't long ago that she'd trusted this man implicitly, loved him, even. It also wasn't that long ago that he'd held one of her best friends hostage, either, held another by the throat in a death grip. "You don't need me here. Why keep me?"

"I care about you," Jay said simply.

Caitlin could've scoffed, if she wasn't so shaken. "You only care about yourself."

A tightening of Jay's mouth, ,a slight furrowing of his brows, as if in confusion. "I know you think I'm a monster. I understand why, given what you just endured. But you were right—what we shared _was_ real. You make me better. I love you."

He reached out a hand to cup her face. Caitlin turned away vehemently, and the hand fell.

"It may take a while, but someday you'll start feeling that way about me again, too." The comment _thunked_ hollowly down in Caitlin's belly, a dark, festering weight. Her breath caught, the same way it used to when Jay would steal a kiss in the STAR corridors—but this time it was something far removed from love that stole her breath.

"I would rather die than be with you again."

"Caitlin," Jay said, looking genuinely disappointed. "Why so stubborn? You can admit that we had something great back on Earth-1. I'm willing to try to be better for you. Won't you try to meet me in the middle here?"

The words took her back to that conversation on the couch, when things had still been upsetting but had still made sense. At the moment, she couldn't quite dredge up the words that had been spoken, just the feel of his hand on her hip and her proximity to his beating heart. She recoiled from him.

Jay's face tightened at the movement, at her lack of response. When it became clear she wouldn't answer the question, he sighed, as though she were a petulant child. "Eventually you will," he said. He stood, indicating the discarded bag of food on the floor. "You should try to eat. You're going to be here a while. As long as it takes."

With one last look, he, too, disappeared.

It took about ten seconds of Caitlin being alone again before the tears began. It took approximately five more seconds until she was drowning.

The room swallowed her. No corners to hide in, no places to run to. A metal bed and a chain and a concrete floor. Open space. She felt it pressing against her, and she wanted to claw it away, claw the grime and Hunter's fingerprints from her skin. She wanted to burn off all traces of the attachment that had deceived her, every smile and blush and kiss, and she wanted to dig in between her ribs and pull out her own heart. She wanted it gone. She wanted out.

All of the terror and the pain and the exhaustion of the past hour culminated. She felt she could escape it, almost, by retreating into her sobs. And she did, loudly, burning her face in her knees.

When the sobbing escalated to such a point that it made Caitlin feel physically ill, she allowed it to peter off accordingly. A few hiccuping cries followed, a few hoarse coughs.

"You done yet?"

The voice that echoed through to her was not Jay's or Hunter's; it was still metallic and unnatural, but decidedly feminine. Caitlin froze on the spot, her face still buried in her knees. She held her breath, but that only made her pounding heartbeat louder in her ears.

"I mean, by all means, let it out, honey," said the voice sarcastically. "But some of us are trying to get our beauty sleep."

Slowly, Caitlin lifted her face, the dim light now stinging past her puffy eyelids. She swiveled her head; she was just as alone as she'd been ten minutes ago.

"Who's there?" she called, her voice scratchy. "Where are you?"

"I thought he said he was going to put me in isolation," the voice continued to drawl. "I thought I might actually have some peace and quiet."

Cautiously, Caitlin unfolded herself and edged toward the side of the bed. Silly, she thought, the innate fear of lowering herself off of it, like a kid afraid of the monsters that lurked underneath. The primal instinct prickled her arms as she swung her legs over the edge and stood.

"You can't blame dear old Hunter for his temper," the ghostly voice continued. Caitlin followed it, taking step after tentative step toward it. "He's been under so much pressure. So many frustrations. So much waiting So much failure. It's only natural for him to be a little upset." Every word dripped with sarcasm so acidic it could've melted through Caitlin's shackles. The voice was also hauntingly familiar, something just out of her grasp.

"You sound…" Caitlin crept farther out into the room, realizing that if she made it far enough, she could just see through one of the shadowy doorways into what lay beyond. "You sound like…"

"Like someone you know?" The cell came into view, barely visible in the connecting room, shrouded in darkness. Yet the stark white hair, the blue leather outfit, and the gleaming eyes were unmistakable even from a distance. Killer Frost leaned against the wall of her cell, smirking. "Hopefully someone you like? Or do you get off on self-hatred like the rest of your friends?"

"You're Killer Frost."

"And you're surprised."

Caitlin took another step forward. The chain securing her to the bed snapped taut.

"I didn't realize you were here." She sniffed. "I didn't know there was anyone else."

"Sorry, sweetcheeks, but I thought you could use a good cry," said Frost. "No use interrupting the inevitable, right?"

It wasn't like looking in a mirror, Caitlin decided. It was like looking into an expressionist painting: familiar shapes and features, but distorted and colored over. The fascination of it took away her fear, if only for a moment.

"Why are you even here?" Caitlin asked. She tapped her own cheekbone, indicating the spot on Frost's face where a huge bruise swelled up. "It doesn't seem like he likes you very much."

"I don't think he likes your friend Barry very much, either, but that doesn't stop him from keeping him here."

Caitlin's heart stuttered painfully at the mention of Barry—he was _here_ somewhere, alive, and _close_ —but she managed to stay composed. "Hunter needs Barry for his speed. What does he need you for?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Frost drawled. "You realize who I look like?" Caitlin folded her hands uncomfortably. Frost smirked. "He got a little upset at me for defending your dear Flash." She motioned at the bruises as well.

"I'm sorry." Caitlin's throat tightened up just as she said the words, and they came out hoarse.

"Don't worry, he won't kill you,'" Frost said, perhaps picking up more fear than apology in the statement. "Me, on the other hand…well, let's just say, now that you're here, I'm just a disposable carbon copy."

"Don't say that."

"Why?" said Frost, genuine curiosity coloring her inflections. "It's true."

"It's not," Caitlin said. "We're not the same person."

"Try telling that to your boyfriends," said Frost. She cut off Caitlin's protest with a click of her tongue. "Relax, Caity, it was a joke. You know, you're right—we're not the same. Even I don't think I was this much of a girl scout before I got powers." She looked Caitlin up and down once, appraisingly.

Caitlin tried to ignore the discomfort at this gesture. "You're not a pure monster, either. Not from what I've heard. Cisco said you saved all of their lives."

"And your buddy Jay saved you from Hunter just now," said Frost. "Old habits."

"You said you also defended Barry," Caitlin pressed. "Maybe you don't believe you're worth saving, but if we work together, maybe we could…maybe we could find a way out of here."

"Tried it. Powers don't work against this glass. And you're chained to a bed." Frost's eyes flicked to the floor. A contemplative look, or perhaps simply a bored one. "Besides, what's the point of it all? Why waste the energy on an escape attempt that's doomed to fail?"

"What's the _point_?" Caitlin said, feeling the tears involuntarily bubbling up in her throat again. "The point is to fight back. To stand up. To do the right thing."

Frost turned her attention from the floor and instead found interest in her fingernails. "Look, I know you're new here," she said, a distinct edge to her voice now. "But in my experience, _working together_ and _doing the right thing_ are drops in the ocean. They don't matter. They get swallowed up."

"I refuse to believe that," Caitlin said. "Surely you can't, either."

"I believe what I see," Frost said. "Fighting back just attracts unwanted attention. Look at me. Look at your Flash. Look at the doppelgangers Cisco worked so hard with here—Hunter has been, well, hunting them. He's ruthless, and you need to understand that."

Caitlin shifted her weight, and her shackles _clinked_. To be honest, she hadn't given much thought to the fates of the Earth-2 doppelgangers, what with everything going on back on her earth, but she had no doubt that Frost spoke the truth. Nausea again curled in her stomach, overwhelming her from all sides. The hot, emotional part of her _fight back_ evaporated, leaving only that small, scared, desperate plea. The fresh tears burned her eyes. She willed the strength to come back, the fire to come back, but instead, all she could say was:

"He's going to kill all of my friends."

Frost glanced up at her with cold, expressionless eyes. "Probably," she said, and went back to examining her nails.

* * *

 **Thanks so much for reading! I will love you forever if you comment. Seriously.**

 **Just a quick note: I'm planning on posting a one-shot this Sunday, which means the next chapter for this story will be arriving on Wednesday. Sorry for the delay, but for certain timing reasons, this makes a lot of sense in my mind (maybe just to me?). So, see you in one week!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thanks for hanging tight for that brief hiatus! To show my thanks, here is an extra long chapter with extra the fun. And by fun, I mean really awful things happening to good people.**

 **Some added warnings for this chapter: mentions of a death wish, attempted force-feeding.**

* * *

Darkness pressed in, ever present, ever growing. Pressure and cold and shadows. If this wasn't what death felt like, Barry couldn't conceive anything worse.

Dying was the easy part, he clarified to himself. But death, that sticky thing clinging to his bones with every heartbeat, the thing that dragged him down when he kept finding reasons to hold on—that was excruciating. It wasn't like he had a death wish, though he'd often been accused of such, but the smooth descent into nothingness, a release of control, was more tempting than ever. But his responsibility to his friends had always taken precedence over his own comfort. And right now, that responsibility sunk its claws into him, drawing blood. Caitlin captured, Cisco and Iris and Joe and Harry in danger, even Frost and the masked man under threat.

So he dismissed easy outs and embraced the pain of keeping himself alive.

Then again, if he died, wouldn't that solve every problem at once? After all, if he was dead, then Hunter couldn't take his speed, and the whole plan would fall apart. If he was dead, he couldn't be used.

He couldn't even feel the floor anymore. In fact, he couldn't feel much of anything anymore, and every time he opened his eyes he felt as though he was looking at something new: like the cell was warping and changing with every blink. He wondered when he would open his eyes and see Barry Allen trapped in a prism instead of a cell, crushed by constantly-changing images and colors and—

He was Barry Allen, wasn't he? He was the Barry Allen being crushed by his own reflection in the glass, the Barry Allen who knew he was dying—

When would Barry Allen die? What would it be like, when it actually happened? Would it be like suffocating on sticky darkness, a long, gasping death? Would the cell echo screams? Or would Barry simply wink out of existence like a star in the vacuum of space? Would he be carried away by an angel, a grim reaper, a specter of death?

"I hope you've had some time to think." The voice didn't startle Barry anymore. He hadn't been startled by Hunter's arrival, nor did he think he could be startled by anything the man did ever again. "Are you ready to run now?"

 _This is the end._ Barry felt his thoughts floating up like his breath in the chill. _This is it._

The message clearly was not received by Hunter, who shoved Barry's body sideways. "Did you hear me, Flash? I've given you your time. It's your turn to deliver. I'll kill her, you know."

 _Up,_ Barry told his body. _Listen to him. Get up._

But he could not figure out where his body began, and he could not identify which muscles were supposed to make his body move.

"You don't think I'm being serious, do you?" Hunter said. Barry somewhere heard the creak of leather as Hunter bent to a crouch. "I'm deadly serious, Flash. If you don't pick yourself off this floor, I will kill her. You hear me?"

 _I do_ , Barry thought. _I believe you. I do._

"Fine. You need energy? Eat."

Something slapped to the floor next to his head. It looked like a protein bar, but his vision blurred. There were two of them, three of them, spinning. He couldn't make his arms reach for it.

"Eat," Hunter commanded again. "You need your strength. Eat."

When Barry failed to move, he found a chunk of the protein bar shoved into his mouth. The next thing he knew, a hand was pressed over his mouth and nose, forcing him to chew and swallow—except he couldn't chew or swallow. His mouth was too dry, his throat constricted. He felt himself start to seize on the ground, starving for air more than the food, too weak to do what was commanded of him or to pry away the hand on his face. His legs kicked uselessly. He began gagging, choking, tears pricking his eyes as awareness spiraled further and further away. The end was in sight. Suffocation on the floor of a cell. Not the way he'd imagined going out. But he wasn't picky anymore.

At last the hand was removed from his face, and he rolled to the side, expelling the bit of food with his wracking coughs and simultaneously trying to draw in oxygen. He tasted copper in the back of his throat.

His world continued its rapid pixellation to white. He lost track of the words that spewed out of Hunter's mouth. He lost track of the fear, lost track of the motivation, lost track even of the name that Hunter continued to threaten. It was simpler here, in the darkness. Simpler to let Barry Allen die.

* * *

"A _brother_?"

"Died when I was fourteen," Frost said. "He was three years younger. A pain in the ass."

By Caitlin's estimate, she'd been sitting in the same position—cross legged on the floor, as far as her chain would reach in order to see Frost—for two or three hours, and she had serious cramps in both legs, plus a sore tailbone. Sore everything, actually. Under Frost's watchful stare, she'd finally caved and crawled to retrieve the burger and fries, not knowing when her next meal might come. Better to have some strength whenever Jay or Hunter next arrived instead of being weak with hunger.

"Hey, I'm not judging," Frost had said when Caitlin had presented this justification. "It's not like you can share it with me, anyway."

Marginally less starving, Caitlin now toyed with the empty fast food bag in her lap. It was soothing to have something to do with her hands, the rote process of kneading and crunching the stiff paper into something soft.

"I never had a brother," she said. "I always wanted one, but I guess I settled for finding them later in life."

"Never had Charlie." Frost chewed on this idea for a bit. "Huh. Why was mom such a frigid bitch on your earth, then?"

"Honestly? I couldn't tell you." Caitlin dug a nail into the wadded up bag, tearing it. Bitterness rose in her her throat.

Frost leaned back against the cell wall with a contemplative frown on her face. Just when Caitlin thought it might be best to move on to a different subject, Frost interjected, "You're sure you didn't have a brother?"

"I think I would know if I had a brother," Caitlin shot back, not unkindly. "How did it happen—if you don't mind me asking?"

"Childhood leukemia," Frost said. "No, nothing dramatic. No lightning strikes or drunk drivers. Just a slow, painful decline. Tragic, right?" The last two words came off as sardonic, cutting, but if Caitlin wasn't mistaken, Frost reflexively softened. "It's part of what made me want to go to medical school."

"Hm."

"Hm?" Frost said. "What's that _hm_ for? Too cliched for you?"

"No, I'm just sorry," Caitlin said. "Sorry that you had to go through that."

"Yeah, me too," said Frost, shooting her a curious look. The expression resolved into one of indifference again shortly. "So, no dead brother, no diseases. I assume you were drawn to the profession for a reason?"

"Partly it was because of mom's work," Caitlin said. "And partly, I think, because of Dad's death."

"Ah," there it is," Frost said, snapping her fingers. "Dad left when Charlie died."

Caitlin shook her head. "Dad would never do that."

"You say your Ronnie would never turn bad, yet look at Deathstorm. You say you would never kill, yet look at me. Circumstance is a tricky thing."

"There must have been a time when you had morals," Caitlin said. "I refuse to believe that we could've started out _that_ different."

"That's the whole point, Caity, isn't it?" said Frost sweetly. When Caitlin didn't respond, she gave a long sigh. "Isn't it? People making other people worse. People making other people better." Her look turned quizzical. "I've heard how Jay talks to you. He's gentler than Hunter—at least, when he's around you. He obviously cares. Don't you think it's your…I don't know…"

"My what?"

"I just think maybe you should consider the fact that you do have the power to change him for the better," Frost said, watching Caitlin's reaction closely. "Maybe even convince him not to hurt people. You're in a pretty unique position. Don't you think you might have an obligation to—"

"To what, _meet him in the middle_?" Caitlin repeated Jay's words with venom. "When did that become my obligation? It's not my fault he lied to me, or manipulated me, or, or…" Her eyes clouded, but she was no longer ashamed of her tears. "Why do I suddenly owe him my conscience?"

To that, Frost replied, "I'm not telling you what to do. Just telling you what I see. With great power comes great responsibility, and all that. Think I read that somewhere once."

 _What would it take for two people on opposite ends of the spectrum to make things work between them? Would they have to meet in the middle?_ Jay had once asked her, what felt like years ago, lying on that couch. He'd said, then, that he wasn't good enough for her, and even though she'd been too blind to see it, he'd been right. He'd also been sincere. Past the layers of deception, she could tell that his love, his obsession, his fascination with her was genuine. It made her sick. But it also made her swallow Frost's words with guilt.

Caitlin opened her mouth, ready to formulate a reply, but Hunter chose that moment to reappear in a burst of static. His slide to a halt left streaks of black on the stone floor. His head swiveled from Frost, lazily leaning against her cell wall, to Caitlin and the long length of chain that signaled her deliberate repositioning. His predatory gaze finally settled on Frost, and he practically blistered with rage.

"Don't talk to her."

"It was me," Caitlin lied hastily, deliberately rattling the chains as she moved to draw Hunter's attention her way. "I started the conversation. I was lonely. I kept goading her into it. It's my fault."

Hunter, though, continued to search Frost's face for answers. Frost, for her part, didn't contradict the statement—perhaps she suspected, like Caitlin, that punishment was more likely to come her way than Caitlin's. She remained impassive, hardly twitching from her position, every bit the silent, sullen creature Caitlin made her out to be.

A spasm in Hunter's jaw betrayed the fact that he didn't believe her. Nevertheless, he relented.

"I don't care who starts it; if I catch you speaking to one another again, the only thing you'll be eating is your own tongues." He bent to Caitlin's level and reached for her wrists. She flinched back, terror swooping in her gut, but he took hold of the chain and yanked her back. "But that doesn't matter now. It's time for you to be useful, Caitlin."

The shackles sprung open under his hands, and he dragged her upright. The words _Get your hands off of me_ were lost as she was whisked from the room at superspeed, a stomach-lurching sensation she'd still not gotten used to. Instead, what came out of her mouth was:

"Get your hands— _oh._ "

She'd been deposited, haphazardly, on another concrete floor, though this one was much colder. Thick glass walls rose up around her and burned that same chill into her back. For a moment, she thought she'd been moved into Frost's cell—a punishment for what she'd done, some sick attempt to give her powers too, surely—until she saw the actual occupant.

Oh.

Curled up and motionless on the blood-streaked floor, eyes closed and face drained of all color, Barry looked dead.

"Oh my God." Caitlin crawled, desperate, across the four feet that separated them in the tiny cell. Her hands reflexively found his wrist first, searching for a pulse, steadying somewhat when they found one. The beat was slow, far too sluggish for Barry's speedster-normal, but it was there.

She choked on new fear, fear that had impacted like a train, her consciousness struggling to adapt to the new environment and the new threat. Her fingers sought wounds automatically, and discovered them; her mind began the robotic process of cataloging, listing, storing information.

"What did you do to him?" she managed to cry as she took stock of the punctures in the suit, in his shallowly-rising chest. The bruises, the blood, the cold. She looked up at Hunter, who stood outside the glass with his arms crossed. "Oh, God—you _monster_ , what did you do?"

All he said was: "Fix him."

* * *

Some of the stabilizers had come loose on the cosmic treadmill—normal wear and tear, sure, and probably another result of Barry's post-Zoom intensified training regimen, but not unfixable. Of course, Jesse wouldn't be using the treadmill for its intended purpose, at least not at first, but Cisco attacked the problem as he would any other. Keep up maintenance of his toys. Repair the broken parts. It was more than his job. It was his reflex.

He tightened a few screws, driven forward through exhaustion by pure necessity. He worked with precision and automaticity and silence, not even venturing into his usual humming. Music typically helped him work better; now, he felt it might breach some sacred bubble he'd built up around himself. Besides, it hurt to breathe, much less hum or sing. On his historic list of fun injuries—burnt tongue from hot pizza, concussion from dropping phone on face, hickeys—a crushed windpipe from being _twice_ choked out by an evil speedster did not make an appearance.

Cisco finished with the stabilizers and moved to examine the power cords that snaked from the treadmill to the wall. As he did, he swallowed down a particularly uncomfortable lump that had risen in his throat. Last time they'd used the treadmill for this purpose, it had been Caitlin down here, not him. She'd been the one to witness 20,000 kilo-amps of electricity pass through Barry's body from the metal contraption. She knew the biology, the specific risks, the first steps of recovery should anything go wrong. She hadn't needed to put that knowledge to work back then, but if anything went wrong _this time_ —

"Cisco? You ready?"

Cisco realized he'd been staring, paralyzed, at the power connector, his hands frozen in place at the base. At Jesse's voice, he finished twisting them on and rose to his feet.

"I'm the one who should be asking you that question," he said. "Listen, Jesse, this worked for Barry, but—"

"But you want to make sure I understand the risks." Jesse nodded. She leaned against the doorway of the treadmill room, looking far more grim but still more determined than the last time Cisco had seen her. "I get it. Possibility of death high. Possibility of speed low."

"And it's going to hurt a hell of a lot either way. This is more electricity than they give people in the electric chair."

"I can take it," said Jesse, and she set her jaw in a way that made Cisco believe it.

"We believe you." Iris sidled through the doorway too, clutching her phone. "We just like to prepare for the worst. It's what we do."

Jesse nodded curtly. "Is my dad distracted?"

"He'll be occupied for at least twenty minutes," Iris said. "And my dad's away, making sure Wally's safe. Nobody's going to disturb us."

"Good." Jesse stepped forward, looking critically at the treadmill. "Okay, Cisco. How does this work?"

Her eyes flicked up and down the length of the treadmill, and for the first time, Cisco thought he saw a twinge of fear there. It was masked, however, by Jesse's constant movement. "There's not much too it," he said carefully. "It's not like we're actually going to be using the treadmill. Just using it as a conductor. Like a battery. You'll just hang on to that there—" He pointed to the handlebar. "—I'll turn on the spare generator, and poof."

"That's not the sound of me going up in smoke, is it?"

"It's the sound of you getting zapped with way too much electricity," Cisco deadpanned. "Listen. We won't judge you if you turn back."

"No." Jesse bit her lip, gathered herself, then stepped up onto the treadmill. She planted her feet shoulder-width apart and leaned forward to grip the metal handlebar. "No, I'm ready."

Cisco and Iris shared a glance. Cisco regretted, suddenly, not having spent more time with her—unlike Barry and Caitlin, he couldn't read what she was thinking. But that didn't matter, now. It was time to kill or be killed.

And, as he gripped the lever on the wall that would initiate the power transfer, he knew he held the power to kill in his hands.

"It'll be okay," Iris was coaching a now-trembling Jesse, standing in front of the treadmill and looking up at the woman with the unshakeable trust and confidence that had become her superpower on the team. "We're right here the whole time, Jesse."

Jesse nodded and took great effort in swallowing. "If—" Another swallow. "If—tell my dad I love him, and I'm sorry, if—"

Iris nodded. Cisco's palm was sweaty on the lever.

"Alright," Jesse said. "Cisco, do it."

Without prompting, Iris took a few steps back from the treadmill. Jesse squared her shoulders and rocked once, twice on her feet.

 _Someone once told me that I was struck by that lightning for a reason, that it chose me._

Caitlin had relayed this conversation to Cisco after the Farooq incident. It echoed back to him now, haunting, warning.

"Ready on three…" He said to drown out the memories. "Two…one…"

When he pulled the lever, there followed an agonizing moment of utter silence. The world itself seemed to take a breath, a breath of tension, a breath of relief in failure.

Then the hairs on Cisco's arms stood straight up. Jesse's scream burst to life, then cut short. Electricity crackled, snapped, hissed, and Cisco was reminded of how visceral his fear of it was, how much that sharp energy raised his hackles. This wasn't warm-Barry-lightning—though that also sometimes triggered that deep-set fear—but an unrestrained, scalding, vicious thing with no regard for what lay in its path. It sheared across Jesse's transfixed form, her body shocked still like hardened clay as all of her muscles seized at once. Tendrils of blue rippled over her. She remained locked in a silent scream, rigid. The lights around them flickered, burst.

"Turn it off!" Iris' scream tunneled toward Cisco, and he realized that he was frozen as well. "Cisco, _turn it off_!"

Cisco shook himself from his stupor and pushed the lever back up. All at once, the flashing blue stopped, and with it all the remaining lights in the lab. Far off in the lab, the generator boomed as it powered out. In an instant of pure darkness, there was the thud of a body meeting concrete. Cisco's heart hammered so fast he thought he must have been affected by the lightning as well.

Then the emergency backup lights fizzled on, bathing the scene in red.

"Oh, God." Iris' cry was the first to break the quiet. "Oh my God."

She moved toward Jesse, but Cisco held out his hands. "Wait! Don't touch her!"

Even from a few feet away, he could see the electricity that still sparked over her body. She'd just absorbed 20,000 kilo-amps, after all—one touch would probably fry off Iris' eyebrows, if not worse. Jesse herself lay in a heap on the floor, half-on and half-off the treadmill, splayed out unnaturally like a child's toy. One arm was flung out sideways, the palm of which glistened red with burn marks. The edges of her STAR Labs sweatshirt smoked, and Cisco thought he saw electricity like a blue insect crawling along the sole of her shoe.

"Is she…" Iris started, now stumbling far away from Jesse, her back meeting the wall. "Did we…"

 _She_ _'_ _s dead she's dead she's dead—_

"I don't know," Cisco said, taking one, two cautious steps forward. And suddenly he was wondering why he'd ever let Jesse talk him into this, why they'd ever thought this was a remotely good idea, why he hadn't just gone to sleep and pretended like the world didn't exist for a few blessed minutes. He felt so tiny, like a kid, like a dumb kid. "She's…she could be…I mean, it could be a coma, or…"

Footsteps rumbled beyond the treadmill room, and Cisco knew it was Harry before the man even rounded the doorway. The failing generator was too loud to ignore, and the power was likely shot throughout the building. The man swung into the room, glasses askew, and looked around wildly. Perhaps it was premonition, or perhaps a father's instinct—but Cisco saw in Harry's face that he somehow already suspected what had happened.

"Jesse," he breathed, falling to his knees as he caught sight of his daughter on the ground. "Oh, Jesse…"

"Don't touch—"

Cisco's warning came too late. Harry grazed Jesse's temple, and he drew back as a spark audibly snapped at his fingertips. He drew away, burned. Then he looked up, truly present in the room for the first time, and found Cisco.

The spark seemed to give him power of his own; he was off of the floor in an instant and barreling toward Cisco. Cisco, shell-shocked as he was, could do nothing. He let Harry grab him by the front of the shirt, push him backward, until he connected with the wall.

"What did you do?" Harry snarled. "What did you do to my daughter?"

"I—"

"You _stupid, thoughtless, reckless_ —" Spittle flecked Cisco's face. He remained boneless, benign, miserable, as Harry's fists tightened in the front of his shirt. Harry seemed in a war between grief and rage, his face contorting between the two by the second. "You thought—the _both of you_ thought—" He addressed Iris too, now, who had made a move toward them but then decided against it. "Your fucking science experiments on my daughter—"

"I'm sorry," Cisco choked. "I'm so, so sorry—"

In the middle of the room, Jesse drew in a long, wheezing gasp.

Harry, Cisco, and Iris all whirled to face her.

Her eyes went wide, stark green in a sea of electric white.

Then, in a streak of yellow lightning that sliced through their red world, she was running.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Comments are welcome!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	18. Chapter 18

Barry wasn't sure if he was dead or hallucinating. At first, he was sure it was death—when he'd faded the last time he'd been visited by Hunter, he was certain he was finally being untethered from reality—but little details made him question his hypothesis. The fact that he still passed in and out of darkness, instead of staying grounded in either shadow or color. The fact that every time he managed to open his eyes, he still saw his decidedly un-afterlife-like cell. The fact that he still felt pain, and there wasn't supposed to be pain in the afterlife.

 _Please make it stop_ , he tried to say, to whoever was listening, to the hallucinations that appeared to him in those intermittent periods where he was semi-conscious. Flashes of chestnut hair, purple fabric. _Let me go. I want it to end._

He felt needles in his arm, and he knew that the friendly face he'd been hallucinating was just Hunter in disguise. Always a disguise. Always a deception. When would he learn?

"Shh. Go back to sleep, Barry."

And he sunk, obediently, back into the dark.

When he at last emerged with some cognizance, after what he imagined to be an eternity of floating listlessly on a sea of incomprehension, he felt that something was different. He rose to consciousness with the taste of metal in his mouth, with cement in his bones. A shiver passed through him, and he whined softly.

"Take it slow, there it is. Okay? Barry? Can you hear me?"

It still took a few blinks for the image to fully materialize. His senses were fuzzy like a radio going out of tune, everything colored by a grainy filter. In his dazedness, he initially re-characterized the figure in front of him as what he'd interpreted as a hallucination: he automatically corrected the image into one of Hunter, but the clearer his vision became, the more he realized that he was not imagining the auburn hair.

"Caitlin?"

His voice did not sound like his voice, even to his own ears. He was accustomed to some degree of certainty, even when he was not certain; this was fragmented, broken, weak. He coughed, and the face-that-looked-like-Caitlin's moved closer.

"It's me. Lay back. There you go. Save your strength."

The coughing fit died, and with it went any reserves of strength Barry hoped to possess. He groaned and blinked up at a ceiling that seemed to whirl drunkenly.

"We're still on Earth-2," he said stupidly. He'd thought the next time he would see Caitlin would be back in the safety of his earth. It was an absurd thought. Zoom was too powerful. "Why are you here?"

"It's a long story," said Caitlin, her mouth tightening. "All you need to know right now is that I'm here, and I'm going to help you."

Barry blinked long, hard, then angled his head so his cheek met the concrete. He was lying flat on his back in his cell, the top of his suit now unzipped to expose the numerous lacerations and puncture wounds that dotted his chest. Caitlin sat cross legged against one of the cell walls. A first-aid kit rested by one knee, along with a few other medical supplies that Barry couldn't identify. Caitlin herself was pale, shivering, drawn-looking. A bruise bloomed along her jaw, and her wrists glared raw and red.

"He kidnapped you." Each word felt too big for Barry's mouth. He was chewing cotton, his tongue bone-dry.

Caitlin tilted her chin. "Everyone else is okay. He can't touch them until he gets your speed." Her lower lip wobbled, just slightly. "How are you feeling?"

"About as well as you'd expect," Barry said.

"That bad?"

Barry winced out a smile. "And you?"

"Better than you."

"That's not saying much."

"No," said Caitlin. "No, it's not."

The throbbing that had been building in his chest reached a peak, and he closed his eyes against the swell. In doing so, he felt himself tugged by the darkness that still lingered at the edges of his consciousness, but he resisted it in a way he hadn't in some time. He took a few deep breaths and pried open his eyes once more. Caitlin waited patiently for him to gather himself.

"How long have I been out?"

"It's hard to say," Caitlin admitted. "I've been treating you for maybe two or three days. I think Hunter realized he needed my help when he saw that you were dying. He ran me to a hospital a few times for supplies when I told him a first aid kit wouldn't cut it, but I couldn't see a clock or a calendar. But he lets me in here every few hours or so."

"I'm sorry," Barry mumbled. "You must be terrified."

Caitlin shook her head. "He doesn't scare me nearly as much as you," she said. "I thought you were dead. I didn't think I could bring you back."

"Hunter wouldn't have let that happen," said Barry. "Like you said, he needs my speed."

"Well, if he waned you alive, he was doing a very poor job of it," Caitlin snapped. "What did he think was going to happen? No food, hardly any water—not to mention the physical injuries—"

"I don't think he fully realized the damage he was doing, or how long this would actually take," said Barry dully. "I think it was mostly to prove a point."

"Risking the purpose of his 'mission' just to prove a point." Color rose angrily in Caitlin's neck. "I should've pegged him for brainless machismo."

"Yeah, he's a real…" Barry was forced to halt halfway to lifting himself up to his elbows. His rueful laugh turned to a sort of choking sob. "A real…" He tried again to complete the sentence, but dissolved once more. He scrunched up his face in a squint, as if that alone might scare away the fire in his chest. As usual, it didn't.

"It's alright," Caitlin said. "Just breathe. Breathe."

He tried, but the brief stint with consciousness was taking its toll, the conversation too exhausting. His ill attempt at getting up seemed to be the final nail—it was dragging him back, fast, shuttered vision and short breaths.

"'mm sorry," he gasped out, even as his eyelids slid shut.

"No need to be," said Caitlin, though Barry thought he heard a hitch in her voice. "You need to rest. It's okay. I'll…"

But he lost the rest of what she said, plunging beneath the surface.

When he woke again, cold and disorientation set in fully. The space Caitlin had once held was now empty. The only thing that convinced Barry that his friend hadn't been a hallucination was the bloody gauze still stuck to his chest and the sense that he was somehow, improbably, more alive than he had been in recent times. Still, the absence was unsettling, that empty space almost more nauseating than the physical fatigue. He was shivering and weak and lonely.

Then again, none of those were new sensations, after all.

* * *

A whoop of victory echoed through the cavernous pipeline as yet another streak of electricity zipped past. Iris spat out another chunk of her own hair as it blew across her face. Cisco had been smart in tying his back in a loose ponytail—clearly two years of training a speedster had informed his fashion choices. Jesse sped past them every ten seconds, and each time she did she caused a veritable hurricane, rustling papers and loose clothing and hair.

"Remarkable," said Harry, who looked the opposite of someone who should be using that word. He stood stock still with his arms crossed, and his eyes followed Jesse's lightning-quick laps with the scrutiny of an unbeliever.

"Okay, Jesse," Cisco called. "That's good—we have a reading on you now. You can take a break."

Still, as though to prove a point, Jesse made a few more laps before coming to a halt. She tore into the waiting area outside the pipeline and screeched to an ungainly stop, leaving charred marks in the floor and bouncing off one of the walls. She'd only had her powers for a day, after all, and the instability of superspeed was still catching up with her.

"You alright?" Iris said, offering Jesse a hand and helping her off the floor. "Looks like you're bleeding."

Jesse swiped a hand across her bloody upper lip and smiled broadly. "Healing factor, remember?"

"Oh, we remember," Cisco said.

On her first run after getting powers—after calming down a livid Harry, of course—she'd been stopped short by tripping and crashing so hard into the pipeline wall she'd shattered her ankle. Iris still regarded the bone skeptically, unable to believe it was truly healed after a measly twenty-four hours. Even faster-than-time-itself Barry needed more time than that to heal from an injury that severe.

"How was it?" Jesse said, not breaking stride for even a moment. She wiped sweat from her forehead and positioned herself behind Cisco so she could look over his shoulder at the tablet.

"I don't know what to say other than 'amazing,'" Cisco said. "I'll have to double check this, but I'm pretty sure this is faster than Barry was when he first got his powers."

"Give me that," Harry said, reaching for the tablet. As he scanned it, Jesse adopted his previous stance, perhaps unconsciously. With arms crossed and feet planted apart, there was no denying the resemblance. The stubborn, immovable force of the Wells family was genetic.

"I know you don't want to admit it," said Cisco, "but it all looks good, Harry."

"And you're feeling alright?" Iris questioned Jesse.

"Better than ever."

"We should still run as many tests as we can," said Harry. "We have no idea what the repercussions of your little science experiment are. Barry was in a coma for nine months when he got his powers. We can't be sure something similar won't happen to Jesse."

"Except I'm not in a coma," Jesse said. "Dad, _watch this_."

And she was off again. Yellow lightning streaked once, twice, three times past the entrance to the pipeline, and again Jesse's wild laughter bounced off the metal walls. For a moment, Iris felt the sound sink into her, almost infectious in its complete defiance to the darkness still surrounding them. Iris smiled, just a twinge of a smile, as she watched the new speedster make her laps. The world became smaller, singular. A girl celebrating freedom. A girl running. A girl chasing the tails of some destiny that didn't yet seem important.

There it was again, that thing that had lain dormant for too long: the thing speedster lightning had once heralded, before becoming tainted by the likes of Reverse Flash and Zoom.

It was hope. It was warm, and tenacious, and it made everything lighter for one brief moment.

Jesse came to a halt, breathing hard, and the vacuum released.

"This is like nothing I've ever felt before," she said between gasps. "I feel—powerful."

"That's what I'm worried about," said Harry softly. "So far, Zoom's been intent on hunting speedsters. What if he senses you? Comes after you?"

It was a possibility Iris hadn't yet considered, even though she felt she should have. The basis for their plan had been to surprise Zoom with a new speedster, not for Zoom to put an even bigger target on them. They hadn't had any resounding successes whenever Zoom got the drop on them.

But Jesse stood straight, formidable, and it was hard not to imagine her in some kind of Flash suit. In her eyes was the same determination, however reckless, that Iris had always seen in Barry.

"I'm not afraid," said the new speedster. "Not of him. Not anymore."

Iris believed her. And, as much as she wondered if they'd made a huge mistake—it also no longer mattered.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! As always, comments are appreciated!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	19. Chapter 19

**Warnings again for mentions of a death wish kind of? I want to tag it just to be safe.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Barry continued fading in and out of consciousness, but it was beginning to feel less like he was fading in and out of existence. Often he would wake alone, staring at a spot on the ceiling until monotony lulled him back to nothingness, but sometimes he would open his eyes to find Caitlin huddled in her corner, chewing her nails. Their conversations never lasted long—either Barry would pass out, Hunter would whisk Caitlin away, or hopelessness would drain them both of the desire to converse—but the company was welcome relief for the both of them.

It was during one of these conversations that a particular kind of dread began to take shape in the pit of Barry's stomach. He'd managed to sit up, still leaning heavily against the wall across from Caitlin, listening to her talk about what he'd missed back on Earth-1.

"And after we closed the breach for good, we decided to start looking for other options," Caitlin said. "Jesse wanted us to try to make her a speedster. Harry was firmly against that, of course."

She said all of it in that matter-of-fact Caitlin way, so neatly, like these weren't the desperate measures of friends who were considering a life-threatening experience. Her eyes were distant, detached. It was only by virtue of their friendship that Barry recognized the sign as a defense mechanism and not lack of emotion. When he was anxious or terrified, he let tears come freely. Caitlin became cool, calculated.

"Did you try?" Barry croaked. Caitlin handed him the bottle of water she'd scavenged from her latest trip to the Earth-2 hospital and watched him take a few careful sips.

"No, too risky," said Caitlin. "The possibility of catastrophe was too great—even if she survived getting powers, there's no telling what Hunter would do to her."

Barry capped the water again with shaking fingers, mindful of what Caitlin had told him, to drink slowly. "So, no speedsters."

"No speedsters," Caitlin confirmed. "But Iris took Harry's data files from Earth-2 and put together all the pieces. She tried to warn me, but Jay held her hostage. No, she's fine, Barry, I promise. But that's how Jay got the speed gun. I helped make it for him."

She stilled, uncomfortable. Then, as if the action would absolve her, she offered Barry a granola bar. He turned it down, fearing for his stomach. It wasn't just because he'd eaten exclusively granola bars since Caitlin had started looking after him—though that alone was enough to instill nausea—but also because that twist of unease was growing ever more prominent in the vicinity of his navel.

"Barry? You okay? Do you need to lie down?"

He realized he'd been staring listlessly into space. He blinked.

"I was just saying Jay didn't hurt Iris. She's safe."

"It's just that—she's not. None of you are," Barry said. The undefined anxiety that had been manifesting now became words. "You realize what's happening, don't you?"

"I'm helping you get back to health."

"So Hunter can rip the speed away," said Barry. "That's the only reason he needs me on my feet. You're raising a pig for the slaughter, Caitlin. And once I'm gone, Hunter will have all the speed he needs to terrorize both earths. You, Iris, Joe, Cisco—everyone's dead if I get healthy enough to give up my speed."

She absorbed this information, stiffened. "I'm not going to let you die," she scolded. "Barry. This isn't a discussion."

"We're playing right into Hunter's hands," Barry said. "Don't you get that? If I'm dead, he can't hurt anyone else. That's the only reason he's letting you in here. He's counting on your morals."

"Morals be damned," Caitlin said. "It's always been my job to keep you alive. That doesn't change now."

"It's always been your job to keep Team Flash standing," Barry argued. "You do that by _keeping them standing_."

"And it doesn't matter what my job is," Caitlin said stubbornly, as if she hadn't heard him. "You're one of my best friends, and I can't stand idly by and watch you starve to death. I know you've been in here a long time, and in isolation, and I'm sorry for that. As your doctor, it's my opinion that you're not thinking clearly because of that. And that's the end of this discussion."

She pursed her lip, and even though Barry still wanted to, he was too exhausted to argue further. He knew he wouldn't get through to Caitlin, and it was pointless to get stuck in icy silence when they only had each other.

Barry drew in a long breath. Though he'd been getting stronger, slowly, his healing hadn't yet kicked in. His torso, both the exterior gashes and punctures and the broken ribs, constantly drew his attention toward discomfort. To distract himself from it, he tried another avenue of conversation.

"How are you handling Jay and Hunter? They're not hurting you, are they?"

Caitlin continued picking at her fingernails, coolly avoiding eye contact. "Like you said, they need me in one piece to keep you in one piece." It wasn't much of an answer, but she persisted. "We're not the only prisoners here though, you know. I've been talking to one of your new friends."

It took Barry longer than he cared to admit to put two and two together and figure out who she was talking about. When he did, he felt himself paling. "Killer Frost."

"Hunter had the bright idea to put her in a cell close to where he's keeping me," Caitlin said. "I don't think he anticipated us actually wanting to make conversation."

"You can't blame him," Barry said. "I didn't think you'd jump at the opportunity to make small-talk with your evil doppelganger."

"Loneliness inspires company," Caitlin said, shooting him a cagey glance. "What, you're going to pretend you didn't talk to her, too? She speaks pretty highly of you. At least, if you can get through the sarcasm."

Barry practically guffawed. "Are you sure the _speaking highly of me_ isn't sarcasm?"

"I think talking with you has made a real difference," Caitlin said. "Haven't I always said you have a way of inspiring people to be their best selves? It's worked for me in the past. And she's just an extension of me, right?"

"You're not her," Barry said. "Trust me, Cait. You don't have to worry about that."

Caitlin hmm'ed and returned to ravaging her cuticles with all the precision of someone who wasn't actually seeing what she was doing. It occurred to Barry that he may have again unintentionally struck a nerve, though it was hard to say for certain. Still, he offered, "I'm sorry."

Caitlin looked up at him from under her lashes. "For what?"

Barry opened his mouth to respond, but a flash of blue phased through the cell and back out, taking with it Caitlin and all remaining food and medical supplies. Their time was, apparently, up for the day.

Unsettled, Barry haltingly lowered himself back to the floor to rest as he usually did whenever Caitlin was taken away. Sleeping made the lonely stretches less lonely, and his body sorely craved it. However, this time his eyes did not slide easily closed; for the first time, the tug of oblivion was not stronger than the unease that kept his gaze locked on the ceiling.

* * *

Training alongside a new speedster, in retrospect, probably wasn't Cisco's best and brightest idea. Helping to train Barry had been one hell of a hassle at times, but Jesse had a particularly unrelenting mischievous spirit. She was bullheaded, and reckless, and just overconfident enough that she would risk broken noses just to speed-untie Cisco's shoes as she whizzed by. Which she did, many, many times.

For his part, Cisco tried his best to ignore her antics, her ill-fated attempts to run along the ceiling of the pipeline, her whoops of success as she successfully managed to vibrate isolated parts of her body. Despite the direness of their circumstance, there was no point in trying to stop her thrill at learning about her powers. And it wasn't that Cisco minded the cheerfulness—to the contrary, he found the sound of laughter in the pipeline to be indomitable. He just couldn't bring himself to participate.

Having a borderline-chaotic speedster in his training space served another purpose, as well. Trauma was, after all, a powerful foe. Even Barry's powers had sometimes awakened that deep-seated fear in Cisco's chest, a fear of speed bred from unshakable memory. And if Cisco was going to be going up in combat against a speedster again—well, it was imperative he learn how to use his powers even with lightning tickling his cheek. There was no margin for hesitation when he was up against Zoom.

So he kept up pace with Jesse and practiced for hours. He had to build up his vibe blasts like he would a muscle, he realized. Gradually, they got easier. When they'd both gotten a more firm handle on their powers, he and Jesse even tried practicing together, with Jesse charging at Cisco and Cisco firing shot after shot of low-level blasts at her. Sometimes he would hit her; sometimes she would come to a flaming halt inches from him, a triumphant grin on her face and the smell of ozone on her breath. It was clear that, presently, they were evenly matched. The question was: how did they stack up against Zoom?

"Alright," Cisco called after one particularly brutal training session. He doubled over for breath and held up a hand. "I'm done for the day, I think. Good work, Jesse."

"'kay."

She took off. Exhausted, but never finished.

With the _whoosh, whoosh, whoosh_ of speedster energy thrumming behind him, Cisco plodded to the exit and snagged his standard blue STAR towel from the pipe where he'd hung it. It smelled disgusting, he realized as he toweled off his face and neck. In fact, _he_ smelled disgusting. And he was just about to say so, aloud, to himself, when he lowered the towel from his face and came face-to-face with Iris.

"Ah," he said, instinctively dropping the towel and reaching up to touch his chest. "Sorry. Startled me."

"Not hard to do," Iris said gently. "You were pretty focused out there."

"Still, I shouldn't be _so_ focused on fake attacks that I miss potentially real attacks and—hold on, how long were you watching?"

"Long enough to see that you're getting really good at controlling your powers," Iris said. "Well, you and Jesse both. But I know how much your powers scared you."

"Yeah, well." He held up both of his hands and chuckled nervously. "Two loaded guns."

Iris didn't share the laugh. She'd been growing more and more hardened lately, and it particularly showed in her stiff lips, which used to soften so easily into smiles. Not that she hadn't been serious since the day Barry had announced the venture to Earth-2—but the latest confrontation with Jay had cemented her grave expression. Plus, Cisco couldn't imagine not having physical training to occupy the hours, to make time feel a little less wasted. He hadn't had much time to think of how he might have abandoned her to monotony since going off to train.

"Listen," he said, sobering. "Not to sound dramatic or anything, but I think it's time we made a move. I don't have to remind you that we're on a clock. Plus, I think I've figured something out that might help us."

He said the last words haltingly. Iris picked up on the hesitation and lowered her voice.

"What kind of something?"

"I mean…" Cisco glanced once over his shoulder. Jesse was still whizzing past in the pipeline beyond, again and again. "It started when I was trying to hold back Jay, after we gave him the speed gun. When I was blasting him, I thought I felt—his speed. Just like brother-from-another-earth-mother told me I could do. And now, all this time training with Jesse, I'm sure of it. I can feel it roll off of her in waves."

"So?"

"So, I have the power to physically feel that speed," Cisco said. "And take it."

Iris' tongue skimmed her lower lip: a nervous tic. "What exactly are you thinking?"

What _was_ he thinking? He had only been using his powers offensively for a week. He'd never successfully used them to actually take speed; it was entirely possible that his hunch about being able to steal speed was just that. A hunch.

"I don't know," he answered simply. "Maybe it's crazy, but—"

"Doing to him exactly what he's been doing to us," Iris said.

"Isn't that what we have to do, though?" said Cisco. "Hitting him at his weakest point."

"It isn't," Iris said, then corrected, "I mean, this isn't his weakest point. His weakest point is the same as ours."

Cisco eyed her closely, but she didn't reveal anything more. "Whatever it is, maybe we can use it."

"Exploiting family is something he would do," Iris implored. "It's something he has done to all of us. I don't know if I..."

She swallowed hard, suddenly looking more vulnerable than Cisco had ever seen her. Her face betrayed everything, and all at once Cisco regretted that he hadn't comforted her properly after she'd been kidnapped by Jay.

"I can't ask you to do anything you're not morally comfortable doing," Cisco said. "But if you have an idea...this might be our last shot."

A sonic boom rocked the floor. A crackle of lightning, a rush of wind.

"Hey, guys." Jesse came to a halt, batting away strands of hair from her obliterated ponytail. "I don't know if you saw that—two seconds flat for a lap around the pipeline. What's up?"

Iris looked at her, looked back at Cisco. "I think…" She shook her head, as if she couldn't quite believe it herself. "I think that with you, and with Cisco…we might actually have a shot at defeating Zoom."

The pipeline hummed at the words.

When they presented their idea to the team in the cortex, Cisco was surprised to see that it was Joe, and not Harry, who looked the most dubious.

"Iris, are you sure about this? You want to send Cisco and Jesse into the lion's den? On Zoom's home turf?"

"I've watched them training," said Iris. "I've seen how they work together. They're both powerful. And right now, we have the element of surprise—Zoom doesn't know about Jesse, or about Cisco's ability to steal speed."

"His what now?" Joe said with lifted eyebrows.

Cisco didn't have a chance to answer him; Iris turned to him, her gaze pinning him in place. "But it doesn't matter what I think," she said. "It's Cisco and Jesse's decision."

For the first time, Jesse's enthusiasm was dimmed just enough to reveal a sliver of doubt. But she tipped her chin all the same. "I think this is our best shot. If we wait much longer, we're going to be too late."

Iris' eyes were still fixed on Cisco. "What about you, Cisco? We only go through with this if everyone is on board."

All eyes went expectantly to Cisco. He'd been on this team long enough to know that if he declined to go through with this plan, there would be no judgment. When they said it was his choice, the sentiment was true. They all knew how dangerous the work was, and how personal it could get. The option to back out, to recoil from fear, glimmered warmly at the edges of Cisco's consciousness.

"I don't know if I can do it," he said quietly. "I mean, what if my powers don't work? What if I choke?"

Iris kept her gaze fixed on him, her eyes precision-cut like diamonds, flashing their rainbow of emotions: fear, doubt, understanding. Honest. Earnest.

"I know you're scared," she said. "And I don't blame you for a minute. But that's not what holds your powers back. You're one of the bravest guys I know. It's that you don't believe in yourself like the rest of us do. I think that's what holds you back."

Cisco felt himself shrinking, feeling the words ring throughout the cortex, feeling like an insecure kid again being called out in front of the class. But it didn't feel like a reprimand. He was cracked open, vulnerable, spilling out in front of these people he loved. And she was right: he wasn't scared, not of the things he should've been. The fear was of something out of his control, that unbearable possibility of inaction, those pounding heartbeats that said _You can't_.

"We all believe you can do it," Iris said. "What I'm asking is: do you?"

In the end, it wasn't much of a question. There was too much at stake. The people surrounding him in the cortex collected his vulnerabilities from the floor, transformed them, pressed them back into his chest.

"I want to do this," he said. "Let's take down this son of a bitch once and for all."

New energy pulsed through the room, an affirmation of definitive action, a lungful of excited breath. Even Joe and Harry, by far the most nervous-looking of the group, seemed to accept this new reality.

"You can open up a breach where the speed cannon room," Harry said. "We can use the energy from the cannon to keep your breach open, Ramon, should anything happen to you over there." Iris shot him a withering look. He threw up his hands. "Sorry to deflate what I'm sure was an inspiring moment. Just being practical."

"Besides, it will be the easiest place to defend should anything go wrong," Joe added. "What I still don't get is how you're going to take on two Zooms at once. You're going to need a hell of a lot more than the element of surprise."

"No, what we need is a distraction," Iris said. She chewed her lip, uncertainty briefly flashing across her face. The same discomfort Cisco had seen down in the pipeline. "And I think I've got one. I've been doing a ton of research on Hunter Zolomon. If he wants to stoop low, he's got another thing coming for him." Her attention again focused on Cisco. "Cisco, do you think you can vibe images of people to other places?"

Cisco gave an exaggerated eye roll. "Hell, I'm already attempting the impossible. Why not add one more thing to the list?"

"Good," Iris said. "This is our last shot, guys. Let's get ready."

* * *

 **Thanks so much for reading! I would love to hear your thoughts below!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	20. Chapter 20

_**But Penn**_ **, you're probably saying.** ** _It's a Saturday!_**

 **(Unless you're reading this in the future, in which case, thanks for being here. Sorry for the long author notes.)**

 **Indeed. I am fleeing to Canada for a few days' rest, and due to limited internet, I figured it was best to post this now rather than ambiguously late on Sunday. Surprise!**

 **Strong warning this chapter for descriptions of broken bones, vague mentions of human experimentation. Things get a little gnarly. A few chapters ago I mentioned some dubious science regarding methods of escaping handcuffs. It's exceptionally dubious. Please roll with it this chapter.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Frost wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Tomatoes? Really?"

Caitlin practically choked on her mouthful of sandwich. She collected herself, finished chewing, swallowed. "Are you judging me for eating what I've been given? It's not like I have a five course meal selection."

"Still, tomatoes." Frost crossed her arms. "Revolting."

"You don't like tomatoes. You _must_ be evil," Caitlin teased. Frost barked out a low, punctuated laugh, and Caitlin managed a tiny smile of her own before taking another bite.

If she was being completely honest with herself, Caitlin wouldn't rank tomatoes high in her list of favorite foods, but she would also take anything she could get at this point. Jay and Hunter weren't nearly as forthcoming with meals as she'd anticipated. She didn't know how they operated without constantly thinking of food—not if they had anything like Barry's metabolism—but clearly by the scarce amounts they'd been feeding Caitlin, Frost, and Barry, it wasn't one of their primary concerns. Her current "meal," and her first one of the day, was a measly half sandwich. Thin white bread, a smear of mayonnaise, and one layer each of lettuce, tomato, and rubbery cheese. She honestly couldn't tell if it had come from some gas station fridge or if Jay had slapped it together himself. She also couldn't decide which was less appealing.

"My mom used to grow tomato plants, way back in the old days," Frost said. "In the summer, she would bring in baskets full and make me eat them. And you're telling me I'm the evil one for not liking that horrendous fruit?"

"And you're telling me you would rather eat those granola bars every day than accept one of these sandwiches?"

"Damn straight," said Frost. "I'm an evil ice queen; I'm not a sell-out."

Caitlin felt something like a laugh, again, but it dried up before it could reach her throat. Moments of levity, for her, never lasted as long as she'd like.

The distractions she and Frost offered each other, sitting there on opposite ends of a cold room, were too quickly swallowed by circumstance. Though it had become a strange new normal, their environment was still impossible to ignore. Like growing accustomed to the water around you, but still drowning.

Frost, in her cool fashion, didn't let on much if she was depressed about her situation. But Caitlin—Caitlin couldn't stop the crushing, bone-breaking weight that descended every time she had a moment to breathe the stale air around her.

"I didn't mean that," she said, feeling her breath physically tighten in her chest. "I mean, I don't think you're evil. Not really."

"You sure about that?"

"I don't know," Caitlin admitted, feeling fatigue wet her eyes. "Sorry, I don't know why I feel like I need to justify myself to you. I just—I get the feeling this isn't going to last much longer."

"Barry's doing..."

"Not good," Caitlin said. "But almost good enough. And good enough is all that Hunter needs. This is it."

"This isn't it for you," Frost reminded her, for what felt like the hundredth time. "He's going to keep you alive; you know that."

"I don't want to be left alive if everyone else is dead," Caitlin said. "Don't you get that?"

"I'm not like you," said Frost. "I'm never going to be like you again. I've killed people. Lots of people. Maybe this is what happens to people like me. Dead, alive, it doesn't matter. You act like everybody close to me isn't already gone."

Caitlin pressed her lips together, not trusting herself to speak. She set aside the remains of her sandwich. Her throat was constricting so much she was afraid she might throw up. _Maybe this is what happens to people like me_ , her own mind echoed.

"You're trying so desperately to find good in places where there is none," Frost said. "Our mothers might not be the pinnacles of human compassion, but mine at least knew evil when she saw it. When I moved back in with her and she found out about my powers, she did everything to test them, weaken them, destroy them."

Caitlin's stomach flipped over itself. "She experimented on you?"

"Pain for a good cause," Frost mimicked, her inflections so reminiscent of Caitlin's mother it sent a chill down her spine. "She knew she had to eradicate the evil inside of me. But all she did was make it worse." She rubbed two of her fingers together, forming a ball of ice and then smoothing it like one might do to a ball of putty. It lengthened into something slim, sharp.

"It doesn't sound like she made it worse," said Caitlin tentatively. "It sounds like she created it."

"Well, maybe you need to get your hearing checked," Frost snapped.

"Your powers are not inherently—"

"Oh, sure, you think we're not _inherently_ anything," Frost said. "Look at us. Little goody-two-shoes, never did a wrong thing in her life, transforms all her pain into something heroic. And me, starting med school to honor my dead brother's memory, and failing to do even that. These powers latched onto me like a parasite finding its most desirable host. My mother couldn't dig that evil out of me, not with all the needles and scalpels in the world."

"We become what's expected of us," Caitlin insisted. "But you can change. Your mother was wrong about you, about what was inside of you."

"Maybe it's you who's wrong," said Frost coolly. "Maybe I look at you and don't recognize myself one bit."

"Good," Caitlin said bitterly. "I know you would never want to see yourself as weak again."

At this, Frost paused, tilted her head. "You see yourself as weak?"

Caitlin grunted, held up her chained hands. "I don't have powers. I've been stuck in this room, on this floor, on that bed, for days, and I can't do a damn thing about it. I'm actively helping my friend die. I fell in love with a monster and let him pull the wool over my eyes. And I can't do anything."

Frost considered this. Slowly, she lifted herself from where she'd been lying on her back in her cell, rising to mirror Caitlin's cross-legged position. She studied Caitlin for a long while, watching her scrub away tears that should have been used up by now. She waited patiently for Caitlin to collect herself, then said:

"You misunderstood me. I don't recognize myself in you because _I_ was weak before I had powers. I don't recognize your heart. You're not weak. And you want to know how I know that? Because you still, somehow, find a way to keep loving the people close to you. You don't lie down to die, even when the universe tells you to." She frowned. "And you think that having powers would make any difference? Look at me—my powers are useless against a measly two inches of carbine."

Caitlin hiccuped, on the verge of offering some other baseless comfort, but a thought stopped her in her tracks. She halted, reaching through the jumble of emotions to grasp a single word. "Carbine."

"Yeah?" Frost said, completely unfazed. "What about it?"

"We've been thinking about it all wrong," said Caitlin, rising to her feet and pacing, just a few steps each way, working the numbness out of her legs. "Carbine is resistant to cold; we'd never be able to freeze you out of there. But it is highly susceptible to heat."

"A nice sentiment," Frost deadpanned. "But my boyfriend is dead, remember?"

That twinged uncomfortably in Caitlin's chest. She ignored it, looking instead to the space surrounding Frost's cell. There was nothing to even remotely suggest heat, no space for flame or smoke or—

"Electricity," she breathed, alighting on jumble of wires near the cell. "We hook those up, pump the carbine full of electricity, and excite—"

"Excite the molecules, leaving this wall as brittle as glass," Frost completed. She quirked up her mouth at Caitlin's surprise. "Yeah, I studied a little. The only problem, princess, is that you're all the way over there, and I'm all the way over here."

Caitlin chewed her lip, looking back down at the shackles. She'd long exhausted all possibilities of escape from them—trying to jimmy the lock with a scrap of rusty wire on the floor, trying to pound the old metal against the floor in hopes of breakage, trying to squeeze through any small allowance in the cuffs—and nothing had worked. She looked down the length of chain at the metal bed frame it was attached to: a sparse twin bed frame, bare bones, the kind one might see in an old hospital.

"I'm going to get you out," she said. "We're going to make it out of here."

And for the first time in days, she believed it. She gripped the chain in both hands, steeled herself, and threw herself bodily forward.

The bed screeched a few inches, a horrible, metallic sound, but one of incremental progress. She tugged again, and the bed screeched another few inches. Again, and again, inch by inch across the expanse. Frost was standing now, too, watching the display with increasing incredulity. It became a one-sided game of tug-of-war: one two three _pull_ , one two three _pull_.

But the bed was heavy, and after days of captivity, Caitlin's strength and endurance were not what they once were. When one of her heaves failed to make the bed move more than an inch, she released the chain and doubled over, panting. Her arms screamed, and a line of sweat trickled down the back of her neck.

"Keep going," Frost urged. "Come on, Snow. Once you get me out, I can freeze those chains off of you."

Caitlin looked up and, to her dismay, found that she'd only covered half the distance between herself and Frost's cell. Still, she pitched her body forward a few more times, teeth clenched and bedframe squealing, until her body gave out again.

"Keep on," Frost repeated. "Keep—"

"I can't," Caitlin gasped, terrified of those words. "It's too heavy, I…"

A horrendous crashing sound cascaded down the passageways, accompanied by Zoom's rumbling voice. It was coming from the direction of Barry's cell, somewhere in the maze of abandoned corners. And the awful thought struck Caitlin, that one of them would see what she had done, would see how far the bed had moved, and she would be taken somewhere else.

"He's coming," Frost said, her level voice impervious to any fear she may have felt.

But Caitlin didn't need reminding. She was already seeking out that delicate bone at the base of her thumb, feeling for it with textbook precision, material she'd learned a long time ago but never anticipated applying. She turned her head to bite into the grimy fabric at her shoulder. Mentally, she counted to three. But, like any good doctor, she only made it to two before pressing down, hard.

She heard the bone snap more than she felt it, at first. Then the pain shot up her arm, a spark igniting gunpowder. The shirt muffled most of the yelp, and she stayed buried there until she again felt in control. Carefully, _carefully_ , she tucked in the broken digit and slipped her hand free of the shackle.

Her breathing was hitched shaky. Frost must have noticed, because she said. "You gonna be sick?"

"Maybe," Caitlin said, bent in half.

"Well, do it once you do the other hand and get me out," said Frost in a stage whisper. "Hell, I might even hold your hair back if you manage to break us out of here."

 _The other one_ , Caitlin thought miserably. _Right._

No time to lose. No time to hesitate. With two unbroken fingers, Caitlin sought out the identical bone on her other thumb and tried to brace herself for a pain she now fully expected.

A second _crack_ filled the room. Flush with adrenaline, Caitlin wondered deliriously why she hadn't felt pain in the second thumb breaking. It took her a split second to realize that she hadn't yet broken it; that the _crack_ was one of electricity and not bone.

She hadn't finished processing this, either, when the dark speedster collided with her and sent her sliding backwards across the floor. She might have traversed the entire room, too, if the length of chain hadn't snapped taut and jerked her to a halt. She cried out and curled in on herself, her wrist popping at the sudden stop and the broken thumb on her other hand wailing.

"Trying to escape, Caitlin?" Jay's voice was affronted, even _hurt_ , beneath the anger. "After all these days?"

Caitlin, though still curled protectively around her hands, managed to lift her head. Jay stood between herself and Frost, the spot she'd managed to drag herself to, so close to her target. He wore his dark suit, but the cowl was drawn back to reveal a pout.

"And for what? To break _her_ out?" He pointed at Frost without looking at her. His other hand curled into a fist, and all at once Caitlin felt a deeper sort of dread bloom in her stomach. Jay confirmed it by continuing, "You think I still need to keep her around? You think she's not _utterly_ dispensable? Or do I need to demonstrate just how serious I am?"

"No, please," Caitlin said, for the second time in a week finding herself begging mercy of a monster. "Please, it's not her fault—she told me not to, but I thought—I thought I could use her to help me escape—please, don't hurt her—"

In three strides, Jay closed the distance between them. "Don't lie to me, Caitlin." He crouched down at her level. "I can tell when you're lying. You loved me once, you know; opened yourself up to me like book. The one thing I can't guess is your motives. _Why_ work so hard to keep her alive?" When Caitlin didn't answer, Jay frowned, reached down to snag Caitlin's wrist and observe the broken thumb. "You've hurt yourself."

Between gasps of pain, Caitlin said, "A thousand times over to be rid of you."

The lines of Jay's face deepened. Anger, or disdain, or sadness, it was impossible to tell. They all mixed together, masked one another in dark eyes that only seemed to get darker.

Before he could say another word, before he could even make another move against her, his duplicate burst into the room in a halo of blue lightning. He took stock of the situation—Caitlin sprawled on the ground, Jay cradling her damaged, purpling hand, Frost watching from the corner. Unlike Jay, Hunter wore his mask, so it was impossible to read his expression.

"It's time," he said. "The Flash's speed is ready."

Jay studied Caitlin's face, worked on leveling his breathing. With stiffness in his jaw, he nodded. "Looks like we've got an appointment to attend. Won't you join me?"

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! We're nearing the end, and I would love to hear your thoughts below!**

 **Speaking of endings, I got a question last time about how much longer this story will be. After this chapter, there are four more left! Almost there!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	21. Chapter 21

**Warnings: violence, highly dubious understandings of how breaches work.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Despite Joe's numerous, vocal misgivings, Iris had once spent a summer of junior high in a girls' football club. She'd told him it wasn't to work out any physical aggression: just a way to have fun with friends learning a new sport. In reality, it was somewhere in between the two. It was before she'd abandoned sports for the more solitary act of writing, back when she'd still clung to some hope of pursuing action and glory like her father.

Of the several games she'd participated in, the pre-game breath stuck in her mind most. Not the joyful sprints across the field, not the lion's-roar cheering from the stands, not the sensation of her plastic helmet slamming into the turf. No, it was the moment of sitting in a high school locker room beforehand, anticipation and expectation building, twisting into something resembling nerves. Running over careful training, sketched-out maneuvers. All of their planning was well and good. But the stepping out into the light was the equivalent of letting go of those plans and praying they would stay afloat on tides of unpredictability.

She felt the same way now, standing in front of the speed cannon for what felt like the thousandth time. That sick sense that everyone was about to be thrust into a whirlwind that had the potential to tear their plan to pieces in ways they'd never prepared for. And this time it was her who had written the playbook.

"This gun has been modified to work as a destabilizing agent," Cisco said, handing the futuristic-looking weapon to Joe. "A little kick to help you close the breach I leave behind in a hurry, if you absolutely have to."

Joe holstered his ordinary gun and took the new one dubiously. "How does it work, exactly?" He raised an eyebrow. "Or, do I even want to know?"

"It hyper-excites high-energy particles to weaken their structure." Cisco saw the look on Joe's face, clapped a hand on his shoulder. "It's like giving a a speedster a gallon of caffeine. Picture that, please. Then picture the epic crash that would happen afterward."

"Enough said," Joe said. "A gun that excites energy. How did I ever get mixed up in all this?"

"You got lucky," Iris said, who was checking over the mechanisms of the Boot gun, making sure everything was in place. The three staying behind at STAR had each chosen their weapon—Joe the energy disruptor, Iris the Boot, and Harry the tranq gun. Iris hoped that, between the three of them, they might have enough firepower should anyone unpleasant come through the breach again.

Jesse bounced from foot to foot. Anxiety blazed as clear as any other emotion across her face, but it appeared to be the productive sort of anxiety. "Are we ready, then?"

"Ramon?" Harry said, dipping his chin at Cisco.

Cisco plucked at the sleeves of his leather jacket. It looked like a regular jacket, but it was made of a material similar to Barry's suit. He'd kept it handy for a few months, but Iris had convinced him to wear it now. Like the suit, it would provide at least a little protection from impacts.

"All ready," he confirmed. "I mean, as ready as—"

"—we're going to be," Iris completed.

Cisco looked at her and swallowed hard. They'd always been friendly with each other—Cisco was usually so chipper it was impossible not to be magnetized to him—but Iris was surprised at how deeply their unspoken communication ran, now. Her instinct was to ask if he trusted her decision, but she knew that they both intrinsically placed that in each other. The man grabbed his weapon of choice, his newly-polished vibing goggles, from the table.

"We'll have to time this right," he said, tucking the goggles onto his face.

"Right," Iris said. "You project a vibe of me there. I say my piece. When I give the go ahead, you drop me and open the breach. Jesse, you're going to have to go fast. You're sure you can carry Cisco that far?"

"Excuse me," Cisco teased. "What are you implying, Ms. West?"

"I can do it," Jesse said. "I know exactly where the lair is. I take Cisco there when you give the go-ahead."

"Perfect," said Iris. One last twinge of regret hit her: regret that she couldn't accompany them to Earth-2 herself, regret that she would again be relegated to that passivity of waiting. But Jesse could only carry one person, and there would be no time to come back for Iris. This would have to do. "Let's go wreak havoc."

She and Cisco exchanged one more nod, she put a hand on his shoulder, and her world spiraled into blue.

* * *

The familiar rubber of the treadmill base slammed into Barry's injured ribs. The air punched up from his lungs, whistled through his teeth. He gathered it back, hoarse, wondering if it was possible for his oxygen capacity to have diminished in his time in the glass cell.

The haze of half-sleep still hung over him, so it was with surprise that he felt hands grip him by his front and slam him backward against one of the treadmill posts. It was with even greater surprise that he heard Caitlin's cry of " _Don_ _'_ _t touch him._ "

"Time to be a _hero_ again, Flash," came Hunter's cold, poisonous voice near Barry's face. "You want to look the part, at least."

The top of the Flash suit still hung open, to give Caitlin access to the dozens of wounds on his chest, but Hunter zipped it back up, snapped the logo back in place. Barry realized why a moment later, when the dark speedster clipped the speed-stealing disc to the logo.

That was when the pieces finally came together. The treadmill, the speed-zapper, the fanfare. But Barry was too disoriented, too fever-delirious, to dredge up a reaction. Perhaps it was just a consequence of being outside the freezing confines of his cell for the first time in a long while, but he was suddenly feeling very hot. Hunter released him and he fell passively back, seated and slumped against the treadmill post. It would be a nice place to go to sleep, he thought. He could almost pretend it was a tree in a quiet forest, something to support him while he rested—

"You've been fixing him?" Hunter growled.

"I've been trying," came Caitlin's small, frightened voice from across the room. "You haven't given me a lot to work with, and the damage—it's extensive—"

"We just need him well enough to run," Hunter said. "Look at him. Can he run?"

"I don't—I don't know if—"

" _Can he run?_ "

"I think so," Caitlin squeaked. "I mean, it's impossible to know for sure, and he should really have more time to heal, but—"

"Get up," Hunter said, shaking Barry so hard by the shoulder that Barry's eyes involuntarily slid open from where they'd fallen closed. "Time to work."

He stepped back, at least giving Barry a little room to gather himself. Across the room, Jay flanked Caitlin, who held a tablet in one hand while the other curled in protectively at her stomach.

"Caitlin is here to monitor you," Hunter explained, on cue. "Make sure you don't die before you're supposed to. We can't have that until you shed your speed. After that—well, perhaps then we can have a talk about putting you out of your misery."

Caitlin met Barry's eyes fearfully, her lips pressed tight together, but Hunter's words didn't have the impact he felt they should. They hovered a few inches over his head, less substantial than the pole against his spine and the warm disc thrumming against his chest. The words could not compel him to move, not when he felt he could melt straight into the treadmill and disappear. He was so _tired._

"Come on, Barry." Caitlin's quiet voice roused him, drew his attention back to his body. "Come on, get up." Her earnestness, undercut by fear, necessitated his rising to his feet.

Much like the last time he'd stood on this treadmill, his legs were wobbly, and it took him a few tries to find any sense of balance. Even when he did, he felt that his body was slowing him down, as ridiculous as that sounded.

"Nice and easy," said Hunter. "Now run, Barry. Run."

"I won't," Barry tried, leaning heavy against the support handles, one last-ditch effort to resist.

"You will," Hunter corrected, "or she dies. We don't have to go through this charade again, do we?"

No, they didn't. Barry knew the stalling wouldn't work, he'd known it all along, but he still felt it was his duty to try. With all other tactics exhausted, he sucked in a deep breath and straightened his spine. Then he took his first step, then another, then another..

They were slow, halting, limping steps, but steps nonetheless. He tried to keep his upper body as motionless as possible, but each contact with the ground jostled broken bones. Step. Step. Hunter hadn't allowed Caitlin near anything sharp save an IV needle, so she hadn't been able to stitch up the gashes and stabs in his hip and shoulder. With each new step, he felt them tearing open again like wet tissue paper, blood soaking the bandages under his suit—

With that, halfway through another step, he pitched himself off the side of the treadmill and threw up the contents of his stomach.

Granted, there weren't many contents of his stomach, but the bile seared his throat all the same. He coughed, suddenly shivering violently despite the heat coursing through his veins.

"Pathetic," he heard Jay mutter. "Again, Flash. Or has your stomach gotten too weak for the hero business?"

Taking shallow breaths, Barry tried to bring himself back straight, but the taste of bile overwhelmed his senses and made his head swim. He remained hunched over the side of the treadmill, unable to move for fear of passing out or throwing up again.

Hunter nodded at Jay. In an instant, the time remnant shot away and returned in seconds with Killer Frost in tow. She accepted her situation with mild puzzlement, taking in each piece of the scene one at a time.

"Don't," Barry tried to say.

Jay addressed Frost. "If Barry here doesn't comply, you ice her." He jammed a finger toward Caitlin. "Got it?"

Caitlin's face whitened even further, but she managed to say, "You can't even kill me yourself, coward."

Jay ignored her in favor of Frost. "You understand me? Do what I say, and I might even consider letting you go."

In response, Frost simply wrinkled her nose. "You call _this_ fit for action?" She gestured at Barry. "Please. Even if I wasn't a heat vampire I'd be able to feel the temperature coming off of him from here. What exactly did you do?"

Barry heaved, only amplifying the pain as his chest constricted. Sweat trickled down his temple, though he couldn't shake the chills. He hadn't felt this sick since—well, since his powers had made him impervious to sickness.

There was a long silence as all parties considered the conundrum Frost had presented. Then, slowly, Hunter turned to Caitlin.

"What did you do?"

The doctor tightened her lips, shook her head. "I—I didn't—" Hunter took a step toward her. She held her ground physically, but the words spilled from her lips in a rush. "The medicine I gave him to fight infection. It has the potential to induce severe side effects."

"You knew this?" Hunter asked.

Caitlin visibly swallowed. A flash of something like defiance crossed her face. "I knew he had an allergy, yes."

Hunter's face remained remarkably level. "Is it life-threatening?"

"Not if you allow me to treat it." The words tumbled from Caitlin's mouth, swift, rehearsed. "I'll need a few days, maybe—"

The blow came too fast for Barry to comprehend Caitlin staggered back, dropping the tablet to cover her cheekbone.

"Trying to buy more time?" Hunter growled. He raised a hand again.

"Stop!" Barry screamed. Or, rather, tried to scream. His voice, like the rest of him, no longer held any power—but it carried across the room nonetheless. "Stop. I'm fine. I'll do it. I can do this."

One foot in front of the other, one two, three steps. He could do this. He could show them. Ignore the fire, ignore the blood pooling in his boots, ignore the pain that stole his breath and told him _you are going to die, Barry Allen_.

For a moment, too, he thought it might work, that he could will his limitations away. Convince himself that it was all in his head, a mental block, that he could push himself just hard enough and ignore physical constraints.

But it hadn't worked when he'd tried to phase through the carbine wall, and it wouldn't work now. After a few seconds of clumsy, unbalanced jogging, his left knee gave out, and he crumpled.

As he lay there, trying to gather up enough breath to say _I_ _'_ _m sorry, let me try again, please_ , he heard the order that turned his stomach cold.

"A shame you're not taking this seriously. Killer Frost—put an icicle through Ms. Snow's heart."

No. The panic rushed through Barry, drowning him. He scrambled for purchase. It couldn't end like this, not now, not to her. It was his fault that Caitlin had gotten roped into this mess. He hadn't stopped Zoom, and now she and everyone else was going to pay for his mistakes. Why couldn't he have just died when he'd had the chance?

He looked up, drawn sickeningly toward his friend's murder. But, impossibly, Frost had not moved an inch. Her arms stayed limp at her sides, fingers loose.

"Kill her," Hunter ordered. "Now."

"No," said Frost. "I won't do it."

Hunter paused, clearly not expecting this turn of events. Then: "She's your ticket out of here, you know. Kill her, I let you go. It was always your plan to kill her once you were free, wasn't it? So do it."

It would be over quick, at least, Barry thought. A swift death, if not painless, and then Barry could finally follow suit as well. Maybe they would even do him the service of an icicle through the heart, too: a speedy end. He couldn't stand drawing it out any longer.

"No," Frost repeated. "I won't stoop to your level. Go screw yourself, _Hunter_."

Barry couldn't believe what he was seeing, and neither, apparently, could anyone else. It was as if Frost had frozen them all, just for an instant, just enough time for a tiny spark of hope to flicker in Barry's chest. It was crushed too quickly when Hunter turned to Jay and gave him a nod.

"Very well. You know what to do."

An expression seared across Jay's face, and it took a heartbeat for Barry to realize that it was regret. Genuine, heart-rending regret. Jay, still standing behind Caitlin, placed one hand on her shoulder.

Barry's mouth opened in a scream in instant before Jay's other blurred hand sprouted out of Caitlin's chest.

"Here's how this is going to go," said Jay. Barry couldn't look at him, fixated only on the intangible hand and on Caitlin's mouth, opening and closing like that of a fish out of water. _I like to fish with bait,_ Zoom had once said. "I'm going to count down from five. If I reach zero and you're not up and running, I will vibrate this arm just a little slower. I don't think I have to explain what happens when I do that."

"Please," Barry said. "I'm begging you, please. I'll do anything. Just let her go. I know you're better than this. You _have_ to be better than this."

Jay's only response was, "Five."

Barry scrambled, grinding his palms into the rubbery treadmill and pushing up. A wave of fever-heat swept over him, and his legs again failed him.

"Four, three…"

Caitlin choked out a cry, and Barry felt himself verging on sheer hysteria.

"Please, _please_ _…_ "

"Two…"

"Hunter Wayne Zolomon."

Everything screeched to a halt. Barry hadn't heard that voice in days, maybe weeks. It echoed through the space, ethereal, but it inspired the same twist of tangible hope in Barry that it always had. He would know the voice anywhere, though he was remiss to hear it here, of all places.

He spotted her at the end of the room, shimmering with ghostly blue light, a vision. Iris West, unearthly in appearance, might have been an angel; but her eyes burned angry with the fires of hell.

"How did she get in?" Hunter asked, to which nobody responded.

"Hunter. Wayne. Zolomon," Iris repeated. "Grew up at 550 Cherry Street, middle class family, red bikes and basketball in the cul-de-sac. You were an above-average student, accepted to an advanced program at the elementary school down the road."

Barry wanted to shout a warning; he saw the electricity sparking at Hunter's fingertips. The dark speedster shot toward Iris, but his outstretched claws passed straight through her. She swirled out of view as though made of smoke.

"What the…"

"But you know all that." All heads turned to the right, where Iris had re-appeared. "After all, it was your childhood. That's not something you need to be reminded about." Her mouth curled, slightly, but her eyes remained hard and dispassionate. "James Logan Zolomon. Your father. Raised in Newport, Rhode Island by Mary and Charles Zolomon. Went to a respectable university in Indiana to study business. Then was, of course, drafted in the war."

"It's Vibe," Jay said, while Caitlin continued to hiccup in fear. "He's projecting her here."

"Or how about your mother?" Iris continued, now disappearing and reappearing right in front of Barry, as though she were barring the way between him and the Zooms. "Ashley Jane Zolomon, raised Ashley Lowe. Raised by a single mother in a small town in Kansas. Dreamed of a career in neurobiology. Met James at that same respectable Indiana college."

"Stop," said Hunter, and he again lunged, only for Iris to teleport from the left to the right. "How do you _know that_ —"

"She was a wonderful scientist," Iris said. "A promising career ahead of her. You know, when she was seven years old, she won a prize at her local library for an illustrated report about dream theory. I wonder if you knew that." Her image flickered in front of Barry. He was fixated on the color of her sweater, a yellow so vivid it made his eyes hurt. "Do you think she'd be proud of you now? Is this what she dreamed of for her little boy?"

She held up a sheet of paper. It was facing away from Barry, but he knew that it was a photo. It didn't take much guesswork to deduce who the subject was.

With a roar, Hunter lunged for Iris again. She sputtered out of view, and this time she didn't reappear. Hunter fumed, his breaths huge and heaving.

"Find her," he said. "Wherever she is. Find. Her."

The words fell on deaf ears. With the two Zooms suitably distracted, Frost seized her opportunity and blasted Jay with a stream of cold, knocking him to the floor. With the arm extricated from her chest, Caitlin's knees buckled, and she collapsed as well with a loud gasp.

In the same instant, there was a crack of lightning, a streak of light, and Jesse and Cisco were suddenly standing at the end of the room. With his back turned to them, still facing the spot where the vision of Iris had just stood, Hunter didn't have time to react to Cisco's blast. The vibrations struck him in the back, and he soared past Barry into the wall.

"It's over, Zoom," Cisco said.

"Is that so?" Hunter groaned, levering himself up off the ground. Cisco tensed to release another blast, but in the next moment Barry felt himself dragged upward, an arm around his throat, Hunter's breath at his ear. A human shield. "What makes you say that?"

Cisco faltered, his uncertainty clear in his body language as he angled toward Barry. Barry's lids drooped. _Just do it. Take the shot while you have it._ "You're outnumbered."

"Hm," said Hunter. "And a fresh speedster in the mix, too, I see." The word _fresh_ hissed through his teeth as though he were talking about a piece of meat, a creature of prey dying in the grass. He shook Barry, hard, eliciting a gurgle of pain. "What do you know, Barry? Maybe you're not as useful to me as I thought."

"Get your grimy hands off him," Cisco warned, brandishing his open palms, no matter how they shook. "I'm not afraid to use these."

"You've always been afraid," Hunter taunted. "But tell me—I'm outnumbered here, but I have this nagging feeling that there's a breach of your own creation sitting open on Earth-1. Will I be outnumbered in a room full of your non-powered friends?"

A moment of sudden dizziness disoriented Barry, and he realized too late that he'd been dragged back into his old cell. The arm around his throat released, and he dropped, all of his strings cut. Hunter sped away, knocking Frost and the others to the ground as he streaked out of the lair.

Cisco, Jesse, and Jay rose at the same time. Jesse, unable to hide her panic, looked at Cisco wildly for confirmation.

"Go," Cisco said. "I'll handle this. _Run, Jesse_."

Jesse was off in a shot, barreling back toward Earth-1 and leaving a sonic boom in her wake.

* * *

 **Thanks so much for reading! We're in the final stretch, and your comments are more appreciated than ever!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	22. Chapter 22

"Is this what she dreamed of for her little boy?"

Iris had never wanted to do this. _Exploiting family is something_ he _would do_ , she'd told Cisco, but even as she'd said it she'd known it wasn't even a consideration. She'd never wanted to stoop, preferring to face her enemies straight-backed and strong in her own convictions. Never afraid of looming over them, even if her high ground was the less effective tactic.

Sometimes, though, there wasn't a choice. As sick as she felt bending her spine to meet Zoom's eyes, there was also something scorching at her insides that she feared might make her heartless. Something she could use. The consequences to her own conscience could be dealt with later.

In the vibe, Iris held up the photo of Hunter's mother, Ashley Lowe. It was a picture of her from a few years before she died—long hair, bright eyes, but a serious face. Iris had found it among the hours and hours of research she'd done, and she'd been floored when she'd found it. Like looking at a black and white photo from the early 1900s, it felt oddly detached from reality, like the subject of the photo was shadowed in fiction. Still, after all of her research on the woman, Iris still felt as though she knew her.

The instant she let go of Cisco's shoulder, the illusion snapped. As promised, Jesse whisked him away without a word of goodbye, a nod of confirmation. The plan was set into motion without hope of stopping. They'd followed orders. Now all there was to do was wait.

Iris shook off the buzz that accompanied her ride-along vibe and traded the photo for her gun once more.

"You think that will be enough of a distraction?" Joe asked.

"I don't know," Iris said. "I couldn't see much, but I'd guess being bombarded with facts about your deceased mother is enough to give anyone pause." A twinge of pain, deep down in her stomach. Her own mother's face surfaced bright, clear, strong, in her mind. With everything else going on, there'd hardly been time for a funeral. "Do you think I…do you think I went to far?"

"It probably worked," Harry said. "That's all that matters right now. Keep your guard up."

Iris' finger found the trigger of the gun, reluctantly. The nerves were getting to her. That was it: the nerves, the uncertainty. The only acceptable conclusion would be all of her friends tumbling back out of that breach. But it wasn't necessarily the most logical one.

What was happening now, on Earth-2? They'd once installed a camera in Barry's suit, a proto police body cam, and she wondered now if they should've done something similar for Jesse. Even if they were helpless in watching, at least they could have known how their team was faring.

Joe seemed to be thinking the same thing. After a minute of tense quiet, he said, "Do you think they're—"

He didn't have a chance to finish. The breach exploded with light, with color. A dark, crackling force collided with Joe, launching him backward. He crashed against a desk and lay still.

"Dad!" Iris screamed, but just as she said it, the blur of energy sped toward Harry. Like Joe, he was flung sideways, and he crumpled in the corner of the room. Iris sucked in another breath. The blur came to a halt in front of the breach, ten feet in front of Iris, and materialized.

"So easy," said Jay. No, Hunter—with his face unmasked, the burn marks across his cheek flickered. "So weak, you humans."

A hundred thoughts and questions cycled through Iris' mind at once. What had he done to Cisco and Jesse? Had he gotten Barry's speed? Were Joe and Harry, unmoving, still breathing?

Instead of asking any of that, she lifted the Boot gun and fired. The shot went wide, swallowed up by the breach behind Hunter. She began running backward, knowing intrinsically that she had to draw Hunter as far away from Joe and Harry as possible, no matter the cost. She fired the gun again, this time aiming for his leg.

This time, though her aim was true, Hunter moved. He was in front of her in a blink, the heel of his hand striking her in the sternum hard enough to punch all breath from her body—and send her airborne across the room.

She landed hard on her back and rolled a few more feet. The Boot gun clattered out of reach, but she could no longer focus on it. When she failed to draw in oxygen, she had the awful thought that somehow both of her lungs had collapsed, that she would suffocate on the floor of the speed cannon room. Then, dizzily, she rolled to her stomach and choked, gagged, finally managed to wheeze through an inhale. It burned in her chest, and each cough sent fresh pounding through her head.

She was only allowed a second before Hunter grabbed her by the back of her sweater and flung her to her back. She tried to squirm free, but his grip was steely, and his eyes flared hot with rage.

"I hope you enjoyed your _research_ ," he said. "I hope you found it _enlightening_."

Iris tried to speak, but his hand tightened around her throat. She floundered, desperate, and her fingers brushed the energy disruptor, which had flown out of Joe's hands earlier. If only Cisco had let him have an ordinary gun, the tranquilizer, anything _useful_ —

"My time remnant should've killed you when he had the chance," Hunter said. "You never trusted me, did you? Ah, well. Maybe I'll bring your corpse back to Earth-2 and let Barry stew over it for a while. Coming face to face with your dead loved ones is the most exquisite form of torture, wouldn't you agree?"

Tears sprang to Iris' eyes as her lungs tried and failed to expand, as Hunter raised a vibrating hand above her. This is what Cisco must have seen, back in that erased timeline, moments before death. But there was nobody now to turn back time, and she couldn't feel fear or sadness. Just a desperate, passionate yearning to _live_.

The breach _whooshed_ behind Hunter, and Jesse's terrified voice cut through the room. "IRIS!"

The idea sprang to mind so quickly, Iris had no choice but to heed it. She had no idea if it would work, but it wasn't like she had any other options. Her fingers curled around the energy disruptor, then she swung it up into Hunter's side and fired.

The shot didn't do much aside from jarring him, his eyes clouding momentarily with disorientation. Jesse took the opportunity to grab him by the cowl and toss him bodily aside, off of Iris. Iris gasped, and Jesse knelt concerned at her side.

"Iris, you okay?"

"Grab a comm and run," Iris wheezed. "Lead him away."

Jesse furrowed her brow, frightened and puzzled at once. "What?"

Iris grasped the other woman's forearm. "Run, Jesse, run."

Jesse looked at her a moment, nodded. Just as she sped to one of the desks to retrieve an earpiece, Hunter righted himself.

"Our newest speedster, ready to join the fight," he said, wiping away a trickle of blood from his nose. "Abandoned your friends on my earth, did you?"

"It's my earth, too," Jesse said. "And I'm going to make sure you never set foot in it again."

"Is that right?" Hunter grinned. "Tell me, what makes you think I won't break every bone in your body before you can lay a finger on me?"

"Because first you have to catch me," Jesse said. "Can an old fogey like you keep up with a new speedster?"

In lieu of answering, Hunter rushed her. Iris' heart leapt to her throat, but Jesse was ready. She sling-shotted out of the speed cannon room, and Hunter followed at her heels.

Iris took one more moment to gather herself; she didn't have the luxury of more time. Then she pushed herself to her feet and tore toward the stairs for the cortex, and the comms.

* * *

Cisco felt his mouth go dry as he looked at the place where Hunter and Jesse had disappeared to. The air still rippled with the heat of their departure, the floor of the lair blackened.

It wasn't supposed to go down like this. The entire basis of their plan was to stand united—to storm Zoom's lair with the element of surprise and the advantage of numbers. But then, that was the joke, wasn't it? Best laid plans and all. Suddenly now it didn't seem so funny.

He was so fixated on the morbidity of new situation that the warming shout caught him by surprise.

"Cisco, look out!"

He angled, and claws met his shoulder, where they'd surely been intended for his neck. Jay had recovered, and now he was back in attack mode. Blindly, reacting more on instant than anything else, Cisco twisted and shot a vibrational blast at Jay. Jay was punched backward; this time he kept his feet, staggering a bit but remaining upright. Cisco stayed on the offensive, sending two more blasts in quick succession. Jay dodged both of them, darting side to side. It was clear he wasn't as fast as he used to be, but he still was a speedster. The only way Cisco had been able to hit him with the tranq gun all those weeks ago was when he was distracted, unmoving. Hitting a moving target, even with so much practice against Jesse, was near impossible.

Apparently Jay was thinking the same thing, because a smile curled across his face. "You really thought you had a chance at beating me, Cisco? You don't even know how to use your powers."

Cisco lifted his hands, but Jay reacted faster. He burst into a tight, circular run, a move that Cisco recognized from when Jay had tutored Barry. The ensuing lightning bolt seared toward Cisco, and he had just enough presence of mind to leap sideways. The bolt connected with one of the empty carbine cages, shattering it. The explosion flung Cisco forward, and glass rained down around him.

When he looked up, Jay was approaching at a slow saunter, purposeful but unconcerned, a panther coming in for the kill.

"Have I ever told you how much I hate you?" he said. "All your waxing on about how Eobard came to enjoy your company, how he felt _such regret_ at killing you—I'm going to have pleasant dreams about wiping you out. You've been a thorn in my side far too long."

"I agree," Cisco said, coming to his knees and feeling the glass crunch under his jeans. Best to rip out the thorn all at once."

 _This better work_ , Cisco thought privately.

 _You_ _'re going to make it work_ , a stronger voice replied.

He closed his eyes to center himself and held up a hand, feeling the frequencies of the world slow down.

He recognized the feeling from the brief moment he'd touched Jay's speed—a ricochet factor, almost like echolocation for energy. He inhaled slowly, like he was at risk of physically disrupting the energy around him, and felt the vibrations of the closest speedster. Barry's energy, trapped behind that carbine, was weak and far smaller than Cisco knew it was meant to be. Half-dead. But that wasn't the speed signature he was looking for. No, Cisco tore himself away from the speed he gravitated to and instead focused on the stronger, colder, more unfriendly one. The power coming from Jay ran over like an over-boiled pot, threatening to burn Cisco's fingers whenever he reached for it.

Regardless, he did reach for it; he ensnared it; he threw all of his weight behind tearing it backward.

As with before, resistance countered him from Jay's end. This time, Cisco was prepared for it. He was more determined than before, desperation crumbling way to necessity, to confidence, to clear-headedness. There was no room for doubt to shadow the fiery streams of power at his fingertips.

Somewhere, someone was screaming. He thought it was Jay, but he soon recognized his own voice mixed in as well. Like lifting a particularly heavy weight at the gym, he felt all of his muscles being stretched at once and pulling guttural sounds from his throat. It gave him the final push he needed to snap off the vibrating threads of energy around Jay. They disconnected with a _whoom_ of power.

The migraine hit him like a bowling ball to the head, but he knew he had done it the instant he came back into the real world. He knew, by the leftover buzzing in his palms and the metallic smell in the air, that Jay's speed was gone. He hadn't just trimmed the tips of the weeds; he'd dug them out by the roots. He gasped and toppled backward, no longer able to support himself.

Jay, too, was panting loudly, staggering, disoriented. He held a hand to his temple— _Oh, you think_ you've _got a headache?_ —and lurched forward as though he were trying to run. The move, as predicted, failed, but he continued his zombie-like tottering toward Cisco.

"What did you do?" he mumbled.

"What Reverb was too afraid to do," Cisco replied, dry and clumsy speech under a dry and clumsy tongue. "Took away the thing you never deserved. Made you a little bit more human. In the physical sense, at least—I guess the evil is harder to untangle from your heart than your speed."

Jay stopped dead and held up a hand, apparently testing again for confirmation. No vibration.

"Give it up," Cisco said. "You're done. You've lost."

He couldn't quite believe it himself, couldn't believe that they'd done it. It was over at last—at least, on this end of the multiverse. In the midst of the adrenaline crash, he was suddenly certain that Jesse had beaten Hunter, that she'd be back any second to whisk them victorious from the remnants of this nightmare. His body beckoned him to a place of rest, made weak by the massive expenditure of energy. They'd won. And it was time now to go home.

However, Jay just looked at him with that same cold fury and resumed his stalking forward. "You may have taken my speed," he said, "but I don't need speed to kill you."

Cisco was too weak to react. Jay's foot met his face, smashing off his goggles, and he landed hard on the broken glass.

* * *

 **You know what would be an awesome birthday present? Comments :)**

 **Thanks so much for reading!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	23. Chapter 23

**Thank you for the love on Sunday! I definitely felt it. I'm so fortunate to have you all as readers.**

 **Warnings for this chapter: just a frickin dose of creep, plus blood and violence.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Iris felt as though she were inhaling smoke as she made it up the final steps and rounded the corner into the cortex. Her throat, her lungs, her eyes—it all burned. Everything was quiet up here, undisturbed. There had been no need for any kind of monitors, not with the entire away team on a different earth, so even the computer screens were dark. An unusual occurrence, here in STAR Labs, but then, these were unusual times.

With barely-controlled urgency, Iris tapped the keyboards at the main console until the screens brightened. With one hand, she flicked on the microphone; with the other, she pulled up a map of the city. Since Jesse wasn't wearing any kind of a suit, there was no way to monitor her vitals—troubling, to say the least—but the comm earpiece at least served as a tracker.

There it was: a flashing yellow icon at the bottom of the screen. Iris breathed silent thanks for all the practice she'd gotten here at the desk. She might not have been blessed with superpowers, but this was something in which she was proficient.

Jesse's heavy breaths burst through the sound system when Iris finally managed to switch it on. Iris cleared her throat self-consciously and leaned down into the mic.

"Jesse? You there? Can you hear me?"

A few more ragged breaths. " _Iris. Please tell me_ _…_ _you've got a plan._ "

"Half of one, maybe," Iris said. "Do you trust me?"

" _Of course,_ " Jesse said. " _Just tell me what to do._ "

Iris had no doubt that she meant it. The weight settled on her shoulders, and she leaned down more firmly on the table. "I'm going to need you to keep running," she said. "Just don't stop."

" _Not planning on it._ " Jesse's icon on screen zipped at right angles through the city streets, never hesitating. Iris followed the dot with her eyes critically. " _He_ _'_ _s right on my tail. I don't think I'm fast enough. He's going to catch up to me._ "

"You are fast enough," Iris said. "Believe me." She paused. "Believe in yourself. Trust your feet. You have so much power inside of you. You know that as much as I do. Feel it, Jesse. Keep running."

She did. For ten, twenty more city blocks, Jesse continued at her steady pace without a word of comment. At the corner of Maple and 4th, however, she veered sharply, and the movement was punctuated by a piercing cry.

"You alright?" Iris said.

" _He almost got me,_ " Jesse said, her voice verging on hysteria. " _Iris, I don_ _'_ _t think I can shake him._ "

"You don't need to shake him," Iris said. "Listen, I'm going to need you to go a highway."

" _How do I even_ _…_ _how do I know how to…_ " Jesse practically hiccuped into the mic. " _He_ _'_ _s going to kill me. He's going to kill you and my dad and everyone."_

"Listen to me," Iris said, forcing an immovable calm in her voice. "I shot Hunter with the energy disruptor. I think that if you get him to run fast enough, he could literally tear himself apart." _It hyper-excites high-energy particles to weaken their structure,_ Cisco had said. _It_ _'_ _s like giving a a speedster a gallon of caffeine. Picture the epic crash that would happen afterward._

Jesse paused. " _How fast would I have to go_?"

"I don't know," Iris admitted. "But you'll be able to build up more momentum with a straight shot." Jesse's icon zig-zagged, haphazard, through another half dozen city blocks. Uncertainty no longer had space to linger, but Iris gave it a breath. "Jesse, I could be wrong about this. It's just a guess. But we do the impossible here every day. I believe that you can do the impossible, too. Zoom's held you down for far too long. It's time for you to fly."

There was a long quiet, where Iris' hands curled on the smooth desk surface, where her heart picked up the pace by just a few beats. If this plan failed, if Zoom caught up with Jesse, she'd be torn apart. That was, if he didn't lock her up again. Another speedster in a cage. Another bird with clipped wings. Another trail of bodies on a decimated earth.

" _Okay,_ " Jesse cut in. _"_ _Tell me how to get to the highway._ "

The words were as good as any caffeine jolt. With renewed energy, Iris buckled down hard into the desk.

"At the next street, turn right. Good. Keep going. There will be a building coming up in a few blocks. You'll have to go around it."

" _I think I can go over it._ "

The comment took Iris aback, but she didn't let it show. "Okay. Over it, then. You have the right amount of lead-up."

She couldn't help biting her lip when Jesse approached the obstacle. But, sure enough, the dot passed over the area without a blip.

"Great job," she said. "Now, you're going to follow this street for twenty blocks. Sharp left. There you go. The highway's right in front of you. It's a straight shot from here. It's all you, Jesse."

" _Got it,_ " Jesse said, whose voice no longer wavered. Her breathing evened with purpose as she tore down the stretch of highway. " _Catch me if you can._ "

On the sidebar of Iris' viewscreen, the gauge showing speed began a steady increase. With each tick upward, Iris pictured the lightning flickering on the pavement, the taunt of impending twilight, an unbound ball of energy barreling unrestricted away from the city. She almost wanted to close her eyes, to picture it fully, wishing she had visual on the scene but also more content with the sensory experience that a video couldn't possibly provide. At the fringes of her consciousness nagged the ever-present prayer, _Please let Barry be okay_. It was him who these sensations invoked; she hoped she was saying the right things, the things he might've said, the things only heroes could say to one another.

Then, all at once, Jesse's dot screeched to a halt, and all cool, collected thoughts of heroism deflated in an instant.

"Jesse!" Iris shouted into the mic, alarm drawing nausea into her gut. "Jesse, talk to me. Are you okay?"

Iris' pulse was so loud in her ears, it took an agonizing amount of time to realize that there were gasps coming through the sound system.

" _I_ _'_ _m okay,_ " Jesse said. " _You were right. You were right, Iris. I don_ _'_ _t think I've ever gone that fast. I can't believe it. He just…disintegrated. Streaks of blue lightning. He's gone. He's not going to hurt anyone else ever again."_

All of Iris' muscles, once tense, seemed to melt. The chair caught her as she finally sunk backward, and she ran a shaky hand across her face. _Thank God,_ she thought. "Good work. I knew you could do it."

" _Knew_ we _could do it,_ " Jesse corrected. Her next breath came out in a _whuff_ , and Iris got the distinct impression that she had similarly collapsed down into a seated position. " _Can I pass out now? And then get_ _tacos_?"

"Honestly?" Iris said. "I don't think anyone's going to stop you from doing whatever the hell you want."

* * *

Caitlin didn't realize what Jay was doing until it was too late.

She'd watched the confrontation go down between him and Cisco, of course, but she'd made herself as small as possible for the duration, too shaken and too powerless to do anything. Knocked to the ground and dazed, she'd shot anxious glances at an unconscious Frost in the hopes that she might wake, with no luck. Her hand throbbed, and her chest ached vaguely in the way that heartburn might. That was what happened when an intangible hand got shoved through your heart, she supposed.

It was only when the the dust settled from Cisco's vibe, leaving Jay deprived of speed, that she fully grasped that her friend was about to die. Jay stalked toward toward the fallen Cisco with cold intent, with purpose, unstoppable.

"You may have taken my speed," Jay said, "but I don't need speed to kill you."

A kick landed to Cisco's face, knocking him backward. Even from a distance, it was clear that Cisco had expended the last of his energy on taking Jay's speed; his attempts to block Jay's blows were weak, futile. Caitlin tried to scream, but her throat stuck. She again looked across the room at Frost. The meta was stirring, blinking up groggily at the ceiling, not yet fully conscious.

A glint drew Caitlin's attention back, and horror spiked in her chest. A large shard of the carbine glass sparkled in Jay's fist, poised in the air over Cisco's chest.

There was no time to cross that distance between her and Jay, but she reacted on instinct. There was no time, but she scrambled to her feet. There was no time, but she started running.

Two steps in, she realized, _I_ _'_ _m not going to make it_.

She kept running.

It wasn't clear what compelled her to look to Barry in that moment—the need for his bull-headed optimism, or the need for confirmation that the world was falling apart—but when she did, she couldn't quite piece together what she was seeing.

Barry was upright at the wall of the cell, which would have been miraculous on its own. But he was also blurring, blurring with speed, eyes fixed determinedly on Cisco and Jay, one hand pressed to the glass.

It was impossible, she thought. He'd tried this tactic before, and it was _impossible_ —

Barry's hand sank through the glass, and the rest of him followed. He left tails of lightning in his wake as he streaked toward Jay and wrenched him away from Cisco, just as the shard of glass was plunging downward.

They swung into the middle of the room, thankfully away from Cisco, and the shard of glass clattered to the floor. The tussled for a bit, more wrestling than anything. Barry clung to the front of Jay's suit and wrenched sideways, unbalancing him. For a fleeting moment, Caitlin dared to believe they might be evenly matched. Of course, they weren't; Barry wasn't nearly as strong as Jay after the past week. His burst of speed disappeared fast, and Jay recovered in time to slam him bodily to the floor. He rolled a few feet and lay still.

Panting like a predator at the end of a hunt, Jay bent down for the piece of glass.

"Get away from him."

Caitlin was surprised to find her words echoed, at exactly the same tenor, at the other end of the room. Frost had recovered, and was standing, albeit shakily, with her palms turned outward. For a beat, Jay appeared to consider his options, as he stood dead center between Caitlin and Frost. In the end, he decided to face Frost.

"So," he said. "You're free. There's nobody standing in your way. This is the part where you kill all of us, isn't it?"

A moment of consideration. The room fell dead silent, still. Goosebumps sprang up over Caitlin's skin, and she realized at once that it wasn't from fear. In the split second following Hunter's question, the entire room had plummeted twenty degrees.

Frost's eyes gleamed brighter white as she glanced down at Barry, contemplating his unmoving form. Her head tilted sideways. It hit Caitlin that she, too, was a predator, a starving lioness finally freed from her cage and presented with a piece of meat. A long, deadly-sharp icicle formed in her hand. She met Caitlin's gaze with a twisted smile, and Caitlin felt a lurch of despair. This was what Frost had been waiting for all along.

"Funnily enough," Frost said, "the only person in this room I particularly want to kill is you, _Hunter_." Even as she spoke, her eyes remained on Caitlin. She deliberated, eyes slanting just slightly; then she knelt to the floor and rolled the icicle across the expanse. It clattered across the concrete, past the stupefied Jay who stood between them, coming to a stop right at Caitlin's feet. "He's all yours."

Caitlin didn't pick up the icicle right away, staring at it dumbstruck. It quivered on the floor, the length of a forearm, perfectly smooth.

A cold, clear laugh brought her attention back up. Jay was laughing, actually _laughing_ , with bloodied teeth and a dangerous grin.

"Caitlin won't do your dirty work for you, Frost," he said between barks of mirth. "It's not in her _nature_." He pointed a finger at Caitlin. "You're weak, and you always have been. Getting you to fall for me was so damn easy."

He paused to collect himself, though that false amusement never left his eyes. Caitlin shivered uncontrollably.

"I never expected how willingly you would unravel yourself for me," he continued. "I know the things you'll only tell the dark. I know your heart. You love me. You're mine. And you can't ever escape that, no matter how much you pretend to." The bloody smile turned downward. It was the sincerity in his face that most unsettled Caitlin, then. "You deserve so much more than what these monsters can provide, and I want to give that to you. You're better than them. _We_ _'_ _re_ better than them. Come with me, and I'll show you how much I love you, how powerful we can be together."

Caitlin realized that she'd gone numb—face, fingertips, legs. She roused herself, tore her gaze away from Jay's earnestness. Her joints creaked as she bent down and wrapped the fingers of her good hand around the icicle. She straightened.

"How about if I meet you in the middle?" she said.

She made it to Jay's side in five strides. He stared at her with those wide, blue, triumphant eyes and opened his mouth to speak. Before he could say another word, Caitlin slammed the icicle into his chest.

His face contorted in a gasp, but no sound beyond a gurgle came from his mouth.

"What you're feeling now is the icicle piercing the left ventricle of your heart," Caitlin said. "Blood will be spilling out into your pericardium. You may be experiencing some form of shock, resulting from the arrhythmia of your heart. Your odds of survival are dropping by the second."

Sure enough, he dropped two seconds later. Caitlin wrenched the icicle back, and he crumpled, small, on the ground.

The instant his eyes dimmed, Caitlin's numbness melted away and was replaced by rage. Her hand clenched and her breath came shallow, and even though Jay was dead, she felt that she needed to stab him a thousand times over, to tear something apart, to scream, to cry—

It was only a few steps more to where Frost was standing, but the metahuman bridged the gap first. Slowly, almost gently, she pried the icicle from Caitlin's hand. While Caitlin still seethed, even being in proximity to her doppelganger brought her closer to earth.

"Cool it," Frost said. "It's over. You've done all you can do. Take a breath, Snow."

Caitlin did, eventually, one inhale at a time. Her heart rate slowed, and the world came back into focus. For the first time, she noticed the bloody icicle that now lay in Frost's palm.

"So," Caitlin said, eyeing it and eyeing Frost. "Now that he's out of the way, are you going to kill me?"

"Don't know why I would," said Frost.

"Because you're Killer Frost."

Frost just shrugged. "Sounds so boring. Besides, maybe you've had something of an impression on me." She tossed the icicle to the side, far from all of them.

"Sorry," said Caitlin, motioning at the object in question. "I don't…I don't know what came over me."

She glanced at the body, and acute lightheadedness swept over her. She looked away.

"I do," said Frost. "Which is why I stopped you. Come on, now. There will be time for undeserved guilt later. You've got some people to look after now, and something tells me that's more important"

A grunt called Caitlin's attention back to Cisco, who had made it back to his feet and was staggering toward them.

"That was less than fun," he said, pinching a bleeding nose.

Without thinking, Caitlin lurched toward him and swept him into a hug. He didn't resist.

"Are you okay?" she asked, voice muffled in his hair.

"I'm okay," he said. "We made it."

Caitlin had never been so glad to cling to anybody in her life. He was warm, and safe, and grounding, as he always was. She held on for a few more heartbeats, until necessity drew them apart.

"Barry," she said, and Cisco sticking close, the two of them rushed to Barry, who had not moved since being flung to the ground. He breathed shallowly but appeared to be semi-conscious, staring wordlessly at the ceiling as though waiting for someone to remember him.

"I told you I'd come back for you, didn't I?" Cisco said, with a shaky hand to Barry's shoulder. Barry just grimaced in response.

"I'm worried about this breathing," Caitlin said, her good hand ghosting over Barry's bloodied chest for signs of exacerbated injury. It was there, of course, with the warm, fresh blood on his costume. "His wounds have re-opened. And he's suffering from the allergic reaction that I gave him." At Cisco's raised eyebrows, she added, "Long story. You're going to have to help me get him up"

For the first time, Cisco caught sight of the swollen, broken digit on her hand. "Cait—"

"It's not serious," she said. "It can wait. But it means I need your help here."

Cisco knew better than to protest further. Caitlin rose, and Cisco looped both arms around Barry and lifted.

"Sorry," he mumbled, as Barry protested. "Work with me here, buddy. We've got this."

They both got to their feet, Barry leaning heavily on Cisco, who looked about ready to collapse himself.

"Forgetting something?"

Caitlin hadn't even noticed that Frost had disappeared until the meta approached with another figure in tow.

"How'd you get him out?" Caitlin said.

"Your plan worked, after all," Frost said. "Didn't want to try taking off this iron mask myself, though. I assume you're going to take him with you."

"It wouldn't be a prison break without breaking the whole prison," Cisco said, nodding at Zoom's oldest prisoner "Come on, dude. We'll get that mask off of you."

"What about you?" Caitlin asked Frost, who lingered behind even when the man in the mask stepped forward.

"I don't belong on your earth," Frost said. "It already has a Caitlin Snow."

Caitlin nodded. Extending a hand didn't seem right, but neither did anything else.

She settled on: "Thank you for everything. Take care."

"Whatever you say." Frost's blue lips curled upward. "Don't worry about me."

"See you around, Killer Frost," said Cisco.

"Call me Frost," replied the meta.

Cisco dipped his chin. "If you see Dante—Rupture—again, please tell him thank you."

"Of course," said Frost. Her gaze shifted to Barry, softened. "Bounce back, Flash. Promise me that. And I'm only going to say this once, but thank you. For keeping me grounded."

Barry's face contorted in something that may have been an attempt at a smile. "Likewise," he croaked.

Cisco readjusted his grip around the speedster's shoulders, braced himself.

"Alright, gang, I'd say we've overstayed our welcome here, for all time." He extended one hand, and a swirling breach burst to life. "I think it's time we head home. All of us."

* * *

 **Take a deep breath with me because...the last chapter is this Sunday! I'm still frantically revising, but I can't wait to share the conclusion of this fic with you. This story (and this chapter in particular) is a strange sort of catharsis for me, and I'm just glad that there are some people who seem to enjoy it as well!**

 **Thank you so much for reading, and as always, comments are everything.**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	24. Chapter 24

**Well, here we are! The last chapter of Juncture. It's a bit longer than usual, so enjoy!**

 **(Typical sappy notes at the end of the chapter!)**

* * *

Iris was helping Jesse when her dad and Harry made their way back up to the cortex. It wasn't that she'd forgotten them down there in the speed cannon room, but the winded speedster in front of her drew a bit more attention. Jesse had managed to make it back to STAR without incident, but all the protein bars Iris was pressing her way didn't do much for her energy levels.

"Thank God," said Joe, running for Iris as Harry ran for Jesse. "When I came to and didn't see you downstairs—I assumed the worst."

"Zoom?"

"Gone," Jesse breathed past Harry's embrace. "Dead. Dissolved. Whatever."

Harry pulled away to look at her. "You…?"

"Both of us," Jesse said, dipping her chin meaningfully at Iris.

Harry cupped her face, a rare moment of brokenness crossing his face. "I'm so glad you're safe."

Jesse's eyes crinkled. On Iris' arm, Joe's grip tightened.

When the moment passed, Iris opened her mouth to speak. She intended to say something reassuring or inspiring or hopeful, but what came out was a shriek of surprise when a breach exploded just feet from the group.

Joe and Harry both immediately dove for the guns they had carried up from the basement and aimed them at the breach. The brief moment of peace unraveled under the sharp edges of fear. It wasn't over, Iris realized. They'd only solved half of the equation, and the other half still threatened to bring them down. One Zoom still ran free.

The breach contracted. Blinked. Four figures tumbled out.

"Don't shoot," said Cisco weakly. "We come in peace."

The breach dissolved, and Iris felt she might as well.

"You made it," she said, her voice coming out as only a whisper. The tears and the joy tightened her throat in equal measure.

Caitlin, still in the same clothes as when she'd been taken days ago, guided a man in a metal mask to a seat. Stationary, Cisco looked ready to crumple under the weight of a barely-upright Barry Allen. The speedster, all red-rimmed eyes and sunken cheeks, caught sight of Iris.

"Hi," he croaked.

Iris leapt forward without a word. Cisco willingly surrendered Barry's bulk into Iris' embrace. She pulled him close, mindful of injuries she couldn't yet see but knew were present, breathing in the copper stench of his hair and the hints of lightning heat that still lingered beneath the surface. His face was too hot against her neck, fever hot.

"Hey," he repeated into her hair.

"Hey," she hiccuped. "Welcome home."

His response was to hold her tighter.

Eventually, when he began to sag in her arms, she knew it was time to relinquish him. Joe took his son around the waist and helped him to the bed that Jesse had whisked out.

Emotionally spent, Iris found Caitlin's gaze next. To her surprise, the other woman's eyes glistened as well, and she shivered visibly.

"Are you okay?" Iris asked. She eyed the dark bruise on Caitlin's jaw. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"He's dead," said Caitlin. "I killed him." She bit her lip, and the hug came naturally, before either of them could properly break.

Caitlin was still shaking when they pulled apart, but less so. Her eyes looked harder, more determined.

"Cisco," she said, "you should lie down. Harry, can you grab the handheld x-ray and do a quick scan on him?"

"I don't need—" Cisco protested.

"Just want to make sure," Caitlin said firmly. "Iris, will you help me out with Barry? I'm going to need an extra hand."

The realization that one of Caitlin's thumbs was bent at an unnatural angle struck hard, but Iris didn't allow herself to linger on it. Caitlin certainly wasn't.

"Whatever you need," Iris said. "Talk me through it."

Joe had already unzipped the top of Barry's suit, much to Iris' horror. She hadn't anticipated how bad her friend would look. He had already lapsed into unconsciousness, and she couldn't blame him. His chest looked like a bad finger-painting, smears of blood and bruises, and certainly at least one broken rib. It was hard to know what to look at first.

"Hunt—Zoom let me do a little treatment." Caitlin fumbled to fit a glove over her good hand. "But I didn't have nearly the resources or time to do anything significant. He was half-starved already when I got to him."

Joe gritted his teeth. "I don't care if there are two dead versions of Zoom. I wish I could've shot the bastard myself."

Iris pursed her lips and said nothing. She was done thinking about Zoom. She didn't ever want to think of Zoom again.

But that was hard when his claw marks glared deep and red on the body in front of her.

"He'll recover, won't he?" Joe asked, already reaching for the damp rags that Jesse had sped over.

"We've got some work in front of us," said Caitlin, "but he should be fine. He hasn't stopped fighting yet. She paused as Iris reached over to help with the glove. "Thanks."

"No problem," Iris replied. "Just tell me what to do."

* * *

It was quiet in the supply closet. The quietest place Caitlin could find—and the smallest. After an hour of quick heartbeats, panic, medical instruments clanging and people shouting, this had seemed like the logical place to go. It didn't smell like antiseptic or blood. It smelled warm. And it was just dark enough that she could pretend, for a few minutes, that it was the only place in existence. No wide-open spaces. Sturdy walls and a sturdy door.

She was huddled against the wall with her knees up against her chest when she heard the footsteps, when that door creaked open.

It was Iris, of course. She took care in closing the door before taking a seat beside Caitlin.

"I wasn't sure where you'd gone," Iris said. "I can leave if you want to be alone."

There was a scream, maybe a very old scream, that was lodged in Caitlin's throat—she feared that if she opened her mouth, it would burst out of her like an alien creature. Instead of speaking, she just shook her head.

Even though she'd run her hands under warm water, there was still blood on them. She hadn't taken the time necessary to wash it all off; after finishing her exhaustive treatment on Barry, she'd fled the scene quickly.

"I didn't have a chance to talk to you. You need medical attention too, you know." Iris pointed at Caitlin's hand. "May I?"

Caitlin nodded, and Iris gently took Caitlin's injured hand to inspect it. The pain hardly registered anymore.

"He did this to you?"

"No. I did it. To get away."

"Oh," Iris said softly. She lowered Caitlin's hand, then frowned. "Cait, you're still shivering."

Without prompting, she reached up for a blanket from one of the shelves. It fell heavy around Caitlin's shoulders, instantly providing warmth, but she still trembled so hard she couldn't keep her hands still.

"I k-killed him," she said. "I killed him."

The three words had repeated themselves on a loop ever since she'd retreated to this quiet place. They cut deeper and deeper each time, surely by this time embedding themselves in her bones.

"Shh," Iris said, drawing close. "You did what you had to do."

"I killed him and I think—I think I would do it again," Caitlin said. "I think he was right about me. I think that I'm a—"

She couldn't say the word. She'd called Hunter a monster so many times, the word tasted stale. No, not stale. Bitter. Bitter like cough syrup, bitter like bile in the back of her throat.

"I don't know what I am," she decided, after Iris allowed her space to catch her breath.

"Human," Iris said firmly. "We're just beings who love fiercely. Terrifyingly. Beings who aren't ever one thing at one time." Caitlin noticed that despite the confidence in Iris' voice, her hands were shaking. "Hunter wanted so badly to be a god, to shape us in his image. To make us worse. But I have to believe that we're more than what he made us do, in the end. That we aren't some set of moral scales, tipping one way or the other."

Caitlin looked over and saw that Iris' cheeks were glistening.

"I'm sorry," Iris said. "Really, I am."

"Me too," Caitlin whispered. She offered Iris a corner of the blanket. Iris accepted with a soft _thank you_. "Can we just…sit here for a while?"

"Yeah," Iris said. "Yeah, I think I would like that."

Caitlin flattened her spine against the wall, closed her eyes, breathed in deep. STAR Labs whirred about them, steady on and oblivious. For a long while, they were content to listen.

* * *

"Staring at him isn't going to make him better."

Cisco turned at Jesse's voice. He blinked heavily, trying to bring her to focus. "You're supposed to be resting."

"Aren't we all?" Jesse said.

After the initial frantic medical business, Team Flash had set up all the beds they could spare, forming a sort of dormitory in the cortex, but all of those beds save Barry's and Cisco's were suspiciously empty. Cisco perched cross-legged on his, facing Barry. He'd been observing, through half-lidded eyes, the rise and fall of the speedster's chest, the monitor by his bed. A smudge of blood still adorned his jaw. Cisco had been meaning to get up, to wipe it off, to make everything look a little more normal, but he hadn't yet worked up the energy.

"I can't sleep," Cisco admitted. "I abandoned him there. It's a miracle he's still breathing. I can't imagine what it was like, to be there for so long."

"I can," said Jesse gently. Now that Cisco was more in tune with speed, he was able to sense when Jesse's drew closer. "I know I never felt abandoned there. Scared, sure. But never resentful."

"I can't shake the feeling that someone's going to come whisk him away again," Cisco said.

"They're not," Jesse said. "I think we've made sure of that."

Cisco shifted on the bed, winced. Every one of his muscles were stiff. Harry had confirmed that there were no broken bones, but the effects of taking Jay's speed still made themselves known in a big way.

"Iris filled me in on what you did out there," he said. "How you defeated him. That took a lot of guts."

Jesse smiled something of a private smile. Then she said: "That's actually what I wanted to come talk to you about. I mean, I wanted to say thank you. For training with me and for…for showing me how to have faith in myself. I know you were afraid of your powers. But you did great things when you embraced them. I think I want to do the same thing."

She fiddled with the end of her ponytail, clearly shy about what she'd said, but the words struck Cisco deeply. Unexpected warmth bloomed in his chest, the cavities where doubt so often lingered.

"I hope you don't mean tonight," he said, though the quip had a softer edge than usual. "I need my beauty rest, and I can't let you go out in the field without a proper suit."

Jesse's face brightened. "You're serious?"

"Pinky-swear serious."

"Wow, thank you." Jesse clasped her hands in front of her, seemingly fighting the urge to jump up and down on the spot. Boundless energy, boundless hope—Cisco prayed she would never stray from it. "Well, I'm going to head downstairs; I think my dad's camping out down there. Unless you need anything?"

"Go," Cisco said. "You two deserve some time to talk without the end of the world hanging over us."

With another bright smile, Jesse flashed away.

Cisco couldn't help but smile to himself, too, if only for a moment.

He had resumed his vigil over Barry by the time Iris and Caitlin entered the cortex, but he turned at their arrival. They walked slowly, both of them clearly exhausted, but sticking close.

"Hey," he said, automatically lowering his voice. "You both disappeared. Everything good?"

"We'll get there," Iris supplied for the both of them. Caitlin didn't appear capable of talking—or, at least, not willing. Shell-shocked, Cisco thought. It appeared that Iris had at least managed to bandage up the chafed-up wrists, but he knew that the hurt ran deeper. For all of them. "Any space for a few sleepy superheroes?"

"Plenty," Cisco said. He watched as Iris and Caitlin found two of the empty cots. Seemingly out of habit, Caitlin made one last pass over Barry before settling down in her own bed. Cisco regarded her nervously. "Still look alright?"

Caitlin nodded, carefully settled herself on her side.

Iris spoke for her. "He's still fighting."

"Not fighting," Caitlin said. "Healing."

"You're right," Iris said. "Of course, you're right. Not a bad idea for all of us. He'll probably be out for a while, anyway."

She looked pointedly at Cisco, who reluctantly followed her lead in lying back down in his cot. He took a last look at Barry's emaciated form, and all the fear and guilt from the past few hours made one more pass through his chest.

It was over, he reminded himself. It was all over. He took a breath.

Caitlin and Iris were asleep within minutes. Ever vigilant, Cisco waited until all three of his friends were breathing evenly before closing his own eyes. It wasn't long before he joined the rest in oblivion—a semicircle of sleeping forms in the cortex, a quiet full of blissful peace.

* * *

The first thing Barry wanted to do upon waking up was go back to sleep. He felt dense, heavy, cold. It was no longer the sensation of floating outside of his body, although the ceiling did spin when he opened his eyes.

The first indication that he was no longer in the confines of his cell was the brightness that stung his eyes. Then the softness beneath his spine. Then the steady, familiar repetition of a heart monitor beeping somewhere to his right.

Barry knew home intuitively. And he felt it now.

When he slowly began searching the room, his gaze alighted first on Cisco. His friend's face stretched into a grin.

"Wakey wakey," Cisco said. "Wow, you caught me in the act. You still need to prevent crime, even when you're comatose, huh?"

"What?" Barry grunted, finding it hard to track threads between words.

Cisco held up something red. "I'm stealing Caitlin's jell-o. I came in here on the pretense of checking up on you, but I was really just going to eat this jel—you know what, never mind, it doesn't matter, you're awake now." He set down the cup of jell-o, face softening. "How do you feel?"

Barry blinked long and heavy. "Like…I was just held captive for two weeks."

"Now, why would you ever feel like that?" Cisco teased, though the concern made itself known in the crinkle between his eyebrows, the sympathy in his eyes.

Barry tried to lift a hand to his face, to try and clear the blurriness from his vision, but his arm might as well have been weighted with sand. Cisco waited patiently for him to orient himself, find the train of conversation again.

"How long was I out?"

"Longer than we would've liked," Cisco said seriously. But also not long enough for any of the bruises on Cisco's face to start healing, Barry noted. "Zoom did a pretty poor job of keeping you alive. I'm sorry—" He paused, collecting himself. "I'm sorry it took so long."

"You came back, just like you said," said Barry. "You made good on your promise. I can't thank you enough."

"Yeah, well," Cisco said, "you saved me back there too."

"Mm." Barry squinted up at the ceiling, unable to focus on anything in particular. Vibrating out of the cell, those heart-pounding moments of watching Jay nearly stab Cisco to death—it was all dreamlike. If Cisco hadn't brought it up, Barry might have been inclined to believe it hadn't happened. "Guess needing to save my friends was better incentive to getting out of that cell than needing to save myself."

"Stop," Cisco said gently, self-consciously. Then: "Stop, dude. Wait, don't try to move so fast. You're all bandaged up like the Mummy." Barry had tried, unsuccessfully, to sit up, but had fallen back trembling. "Hold on, let me get Caitlin. Sit tight."

Barry didn't have much of a choice, as Cisco hustled out of the small recovery room and into the cortex beyond. Barry had done enough "sitting tight" lately to last him a long while. The constricting fear was replaced by swaths of bandages, the confines of the cell swapped out for the tether of an IV line. He was still far too weak to move; that, coupled with the relative smallness of the recovery room, was enough to set his anxiety rolling.

Two weeks. Had it really been that long? Now that he was back in STAR, it was easy to pretend that it had all been a dream. The horror was pushed back a notch, though still close enough to touch. He was suspended somewhere between surrealism and true reality, the ache of near-death hopelessness still hanging over him.

"…thought you said he was awake."

"We had an actual conversation. He must've fallen back asleep."

"I'm awake," Barry said, dragging his eyes open and realizing that he'd accidentally drifted.

Instead of just Caitlin as Cisco had promised, Iris also joined the group that now packed their way inside the recovery room. He saw her first, and she gave him a sad smile. It looked like she hadn't slept in weeks.

"I knew you probably didn't want an audience, but Iris insisted," Cisco said, perching on the counter to give Caitlin more room to work.

"Thank you," he tried to say.

"A little light," Caitlin warned, before clicking on the penlight and shining it into his eyes. His eyes watered, but Caitlin looked pleased. "All looks good there. How's everything else feeling?"

"I've been better." No need to sugar-coat things at this point. He could see the splint on Caitlin's thumb, the butterfly bandages on Cisco's face, the bruising on Iris' throat. There wasn't much to hide in this room.

"That's not surprising," said Caitlin in her usual matter-of-fact tone. "The Speed Force in your cells has not fully regenerated after the damage that was done, so your wounds aren't healing like they normally would."

"On the plus side, you've got some sweet painkillers," Cisco added.

Caitlin ignored him. "The real damage is in muscle atrophy and malnutrition."

"What does that all mean?"

"It means I'm worried about you," Caitlin said. "But that you're going to be okay, with time. You won't be outrunning evil speedsters any time soon."

"Good thing I don't have to," Barry said, looking meaningfully at her, then Iris, then Cisco. He tilted his head so his cheek met the pillow. Outside, in the cortex, he could just see the the other members of Team Flash. They mingled around the central console, chatting too quietly to hear. One face made him frown.

"You guys called my dad?"

Everyone paused, and Barry got the distinct impression that they were all silently judging who would best respond. Iris did, at last.

"No," she said, with a touch of guilt. "We haven't told him yet. That man in there, he's…well, he's your dad's doppelganger. He's the man in the iron mask."

Barry tried to clear his vision, tried to get a better picture of the somber man who sat at a distance in the cortex. He'd never seen his dad with a beard before.

"You didn't tell him the best part," Cisco said. "This dude's from Earth-3, and guess what? He's the Flash on that earth. He's the real Jay Garrick—Zoom stole his name."

"Hm." It was too much new information for him to handle at the moment, so Barry didn't say anything more. It was something he could process at a later time, along with everything else he'd apparently missed: Cisco's transformation into a full-fledged superhero, Jesse's powers, the way Caitlin and Iris leaned more closely on each other for support.

"Everyone is fine?" he said, the one question he immediately needed an answer to.

"Everyone is fine," Iris said. "Bumps and bruises and scrapes. Some things that may take a little longer to heal." She nodded at Caitlin, whose lip quivered almost imperceptibly.

"I was able to vibe a message to the Earth-2 gang, like I was able to vibe Iris into Zoom's lair," Cisco added. "They're all okay as well. I told Dante to look for Killer Frost, wherever she ran off to. Now that they're both reformed, I mean."

"Dante?" Barry said.

"Long story," Cisco amended, "which I will tell later. Given the state of you, I don't think you'd last through half of it. Suffice it to say, I have a lunch date with my Earth-1 brother on Friday."

Barry opened his mouth to question further, but Caitlin stopped him.

"We'll all have time to catch up later," she said.. "Nothing strenuous, remember?" She looked at the others pointedly.

"No, I want to hear everything," Barry said. "Being alone there, being…not able to talk to any of you…that was one of the worst parts. I didn't know if any of you were dead, or hurt, or…"

"It's okay," Iris said, perhaps sensing that Barry was working himself up and placing a hand on his wrist to calm him. "We're all here."

Barry tried to collect his rapidly spiraling thoughts, needing to get the words out before his eyes closed of their own accord. "Thank you," he said softly, "for coming back for me. For not leaving me there."

"Oh, Barry," Iris said. "Did you ever doubt we would?"

 _Yes_ , Barry thought, thinking again of those terrible hours of feeling his body shutting down, the realization that dying might not be the worst option he'd had. In his lucid moments, of course he had no doubt that his friends would do anything in their power to save him. But there was no room for rational thought in that juncture between life and death.

"Just…thank you," he mumbled. "I don't know what I can ever do to thank you enough. All of you saved my life."

"You don't have to do anything," Cisco said with a somewhat forced, somewhat sad, smile. He patted Barry's knee. "Just heal."

"Not a bad idea," Barry said, and the room lifted with light chuckles. He tried a smile too, and it came out lopsided. His muscles were slow, his speech slurred. "We should do…something…movie, or…"

There was a split second of realization that his eyes were closed, and then his consciousness was wiped clean like a blackboard.

When he woke again, he was sure he'd been in the middle of saying something, but he couldn't remember what it was. The recovery room was darker than it had been before, and it was also empty: a fact that startled him more than anything, until he peered out the open door and found that everyone was still gathered in the cortex.

Content to remain an observer, he watched them for a bit. Harry, looking as though he were about to depart, shook hands with a surprisingly-amiable Joe. Cisco spoke quietly to Caitlin off to the side, both of them serious—but even as Barry watched, a brief smile broke across both of their faces. At the central console, Iris and Jesse mirrored each other, feet up on the table, chatting like old friends.

Barry watched it all for as long as he dared, feeling light creep back into hollow spaces. He didn't want them to notice that he was awake; he wanted to keep the snapshot untarnished. A snapshot of this one beautiful moment, somewhere between bleakness and jubilation, of these people he could never let go of. A snapshot of something deeply hopeful. Something deeply human.

They had, he decided, created something good in this place. It was enough to counteract the fear and the hurt, for now, and he suspected it always would be.

And with that thought, he closed his eyes to rest. Morning would wait for him: warm, and light, and full of the voices that lulled him to sleep.

* * *

 **The main thing I need to say is: thank you.**

 **Thank you for coming along with me on this crazy journey and indulging my AU that got quickly out of hand. This isn't like my normal stuff-it isn't driven by plot, there's a lot of dialogue, it runs the risk of being boring-so I am floored by the amount of support you all have given me. It's so gratifying to write the story I really wanted to write, and then to have people actually like it.**

 **As I have mentioned, this is almost certainly the last of my longfic (though I never want to say never!). For those who have supported me through all of my stories, gold star to you! To those who have only read this one, gold star to you! What an incredible gift to have so many people I can love.**

 **As always, I would be thrilled to hear your final impressions on this chapter or the story as a whole in the comments below. And please, HMU on tumblr if you want to chat more, especially now that the new season is starting.**

 **There are not enough ways to say thank you, so I'll stop while I'm ahead.**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


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